The Isolation Log: the Diary of a Lost Rebel
by Idrelle Miocovani
Summary: A rookie Rebel pilot with a bad attitude, teenaged angst and an odd writing quirk meets an Imperial TIE-fighter pilot with hate problems, homicidal tendencies and narcolepsy on an uninhabited planet. And there's no chance of rescue. What could be worse?
1. Day 1

**A/N:** A late, unofficial entry to a challenge ("Deary Diary") posted at another site. Two OCs, an astromech droid and one crazy, swampy planet that is not Dagobah.

Survival Quest!

Although, in truth, it's really a mish-mash of humour, drama and angst. This is written in a diary format, so entries are on the short side, but hopefully will progress to a longer length as time goes by.

* * *

_THE ISOLATION LOG:_

_The Diary of A Lost Rebel_

* * *

**Entry #1  
**_**Time: 0630 hours**_

Thank the stars _something_ survived that crash. Though, this isn't really all that useful, is it? A datapad.

_A datapad._ Wonderful. Of all the things that could have survived that burning wreck of an X-Wing – food, supplies and beacons come to mind – a_datapad_ is the thing that decides to be indestructible. A slightly malfunctioning datapad, I might add. Took me ages to get it to work. Or maybe that has to do with the fact that it's more than a little beat-up. It's got scorch marks all over it. I'm surprised that it actually works.

Then again, that explains a lot.

All hail the mighty makers of datapads. I wonder who made this one.

Oh. I see. The company logo is written on the back. _StarSave._ What a name.

Yes – I'm sarcastic. Do you mind? More to the point, do _I_ mind? No, I don't mind. No one's going to be reading this except for me. I doubt there's anything else on this forsaken mud hole. Slime and muck all over the place. I'm a mess and I can't find clean water. Just a tropical swamp. It stinks.

And my X-Wing is gone. Sunk, right out of sight. I'm not getting it out – no chance. Not unless I'm Luke Skywalker or somebody. I've heard the stories. We all have. Mr. Jedi who saves the day at Yavin and explodes the Death Star.

That was two years ago. That was before I joined the Rebellion. Two years ago, I was sixteen and didn't know what to do with my life. Now I'm eighteen and don't know what to do with my life. I tried to be a pilot, but I'm getting nowhere without my ship.

This. Stinks.

Literally and metaphorically.

Stuck in a swamp – I tell you! Honestly, I don't know how I'm going to get out of this mess.

I don't even know how I'm going to eat!


	2. Day 2

**Entry #2**

_**Time: 0630 hours**_

Exactly one day since I found this datapad. I slept in the muck because I couldn't find a better spot and I am covered in grime.

I need to learn how to climb trees that don't have branches until ten feet up in the air. 

I found a case of ration bars. It was six feet away from where I landed in this tropical muck. I don't know how it got there – must have been throw out of the cockpit when I crashed. Everything was thrown out of the cockpit, if I remember correctly. Including me. Thank the stars I had my helmet on, I went straight through the transparisteel windows. 

I know what you're thinking. That's not possible. The probability of that happening is non-existent. The probability of me actually _surviving_ is even less. But it happened. I have the bruises and cuts to prove it. And the tears in my previously orange jumpsuit. 

I didn't like the colour to begin with, but greenish-brown is even worse than orange. 

I really want a shower. Or at least clean water – which I'm going to need soon, if I'm going to survive. At least I have food. 

What the hell am I doing here? I'm sitting on the only dry patch in this damn jungle, writing on this datapad. Somehow I think this isn't a survival skill. 

Maybe there are some other things from my X-Wing that got thrown out of the cockpit. I wish my droid was here. Aree makes ridiculous comments from time to time, but he's really the only companion I have. Had. 

Oh, whatever. Who cares about grammar?

**Entry #3**

_**Time: 1915 hours**_

Can't find Aree. Thirsty. 

It's hot and I'm bug-bitten already. I found a case containing some fresh clothes. I scrapped the muddy jumpsuit and my helmet. Too hot. This place is like a sunroom with too much greenery. 

**Entry #4**

_**Time: 1918 hours**_

I hate the weather. 

It's still too hot. I think I can see steam rising from the swamp. That can't be good. 

**Entry #5**

_**Time: 1920 hours**_

I'm glad I found this datapad. 

I really should stop writing. 


	3. Day 3

**Entry #6**

_**Time: 0630 hours**_

It's been exactly two days since I found this datapad. It's been precisely two days, three hours, thirteen minutes since my ship went down. 

Hot. Sticky. Humid. 

I hate my life. 

No sign of Aree. It got cooler overnight and this time I slept on my solitary dry patch. Didn't do much good, but at least I was dry this time. But good things never last – as soon as morning came, it got hotter. My face is itchy – if I had a mirror, I'd be afraid to look in it. I think I've got bites all over it. At least, that's what it feels like. 

I have bites where there shouldn't be bites. 

I don't have as many ration bars as I would like. I still can't find water. 

I want my life back. I shouldn't have joined the Rebellion. If this is how they reward their –

I just thought of something: they don't know I'm here. They don't know my X-Wing went down. I saw the rest of my squadron get shot. Their X-Wings exploded. They're all dead. The Rebellion doesn't know – can't know – I'm alive. I was the last one and now I have no way of contacting them. I lost my ship. 

They probably think I'm dead. 

Hutt breath! What am I going to do? I don't have a way of getting off this kriffing planet and I have no way of contacting ANYONE. 

The Rebellion thinks I'm dead. 

_Kriff!_

I can just see it. My name on some memorial, up there with all the others who've died for the Rebellion:

**KERIGAN LYSSON**

_**Missing in Action**_

Eighteen years old and already I'm "dead."

So much for the full life my father wanted for me. Not that I really care about what Daddy dearest wanted. Filthy Empire-loving son-of-a-Hutt. He'd do anything to cuddle up with those Imperials, even if they'd destroy the entire company and ruin the lives of everyone in the colony.

Daddy would probably just shrug and say, "That's business."

I hate businessmen. I hate Imperials. I hate the Empire. 

And I hate this planet!

_09931234098_

_2304985?720394857NJA_

_LKDJFHP98098_

_892345 P3984 5 _

_00109393485_

_UJI8194 - 91928472234_

_0101010101010101010101010101 -- !_

_DATAPAD MALFUNCTION_

**Entry #7**

_**Time: 1757**_

Lesson learned: don't throw a datapad up against a tree. It took me forever to get it back to normal, not to mention that it was covered in green-brown muck. I tore off a sleeve to get something to clean it with. Not that it really matters – I was trying to make up my mind whether I should alter my clothes or not. It's just too damn hot for sleeves here. 

I'm in a bad mood. I don't feel like writing. I have work to do. 


	4. Day 4

**Entry #8**

_**Time: 1401**_

Today's Activities:

1. Slept on dry patch. Again. 

2. Got bit by bugs. 

3. Thought I saw something moving in the jungle. 

4. Tried climbing trees. Moving thing turned out to just be a rotten branch that the wind decided to rip off a tree. 

5. Nearly brained by falling branch.

6. Ate a ration bar. 

7. Wrote in datapad. 

8. I wish I could write, "had Calamarian C-tea at 1100 hours."

**Entry #9**

_**Time: 1415**_

More Activities:

9. Brained by falling branch.

10. Had a lump the size of my fist start to form on my forehead where I was hit by a falling branch. Damn trees!

11. Hated the jungle. 

12. Checked the time when last entry was entered. 

13. Was bored. 

**Entry #10**

_**Time: 1425**_

I can hear the jungle cracking around me. Either I'm going insane, or the jungle's getting its revenge and has decided to brain me with every single falling branch in existance. 

**Entry #11**

_**Time: 1459**_

The Last Will and Testament of Kerigan Lysson

_It is my last wish and hope that the person who finds this datapad on THE JUNGLE PLANET henceforth bring the messages within it to the following people in the following order:_

_1) Princess Leia Organa and/or General Rieekan_

_2) Jyn Talon_

_3) My father, Hal Lysson_

_4) The good people of StarSave_

Message One:

To the leaders and generals of the Rebellion –

I'm sorry for being the annoying eighteen year old who somehow managed to pass all the tests with flying colours and shoved it in all the oldies' faces. I'm sorry for falling prey to the usual teenaged angst and becoming unbearable. I noticed that most of you just smiled and nodded. You are too kind. You seriously should have punched me or something. 

Oh, and tell Wes Janson that I say hi. If that doesn't manage to irk him, tell him that I've successfully managed to take his "secret" to the grave, as per orders.

Message Two:

Jyn, I've always wanted to say this – you're an idiot. You're a bad artist and an even worse musician. Good luck in Coruscant; I'm sure that there's plenty of people who enjoy bad music. Oh, and for the record, your taste in clothes is still very pathetic. 

Message Three:

Dearest Daddy,

This is your little girl talking. You remember Keri, right? Oh wait, you were always too busy trying to scrape business deals to notice little Keri. I suppose you didn't even notice when Keri grew up on you. It's Kerigan now. If you're still trying to figure out where I disappeared to, I'm going to tell you: I joined the Rebellion.

Yes, yes, I know you're furious with me. That was the point. Well, I'm dead now. Hope you're happy. I seem to remember you telling me something along the lines of, "I wish you a quick death" or something when I said I wanted to be a pilot. 

Well, the "death" part you got right. "Quick" didn't really happy. I got bitten by bugs and brained by falling branches. Not exactly the nicest way to go. 

Hope you're happy, Daddy. Good luck with your business deals. I spit on my memory of them. 

Memory Four:

Thank you, thank you, _StarSave_ members, for creating this datapad. It saved my life – sort of. Not really. Actually, not at all. 

But you _did_ create a piece of technology that's virtually indestructable. Did you know that this thing flew out the shattered window of an X-Wing cockpit, landed six feet away and didn't receive a stratch? 

Bet you didn't. 

_Yours sincerely, _

_Kerigan Lysson._

**Entry #12**

_**Time: 1502**_

I curse the day when my nanny-droid encouraged me to have an active imagination. 

Imagination is scary. Really. Especially when you're stuck on an unnamed planet. 

Which brings me to my next point: this planet really needs a name. 

Hutt's breath, I hope it isn't Dagobah. 

Wait – wrong end of the Galaxy. I think. 

Well, what do you expect? I'm not a navchart!

**Entry #13**

_**Time: 1800**_

This has been the worst day of my life. 


	5. Day 5

**Entry #14**

_**Time: 0021**_

_Here we go around the prickly pear,_

_The prickly pear, the prickly pear,_

_Here we go around the prickly pear,_

_And now we go around the Hindian pear,_

_The Hindian pear_

_That isn't really prickly._

**Entry #15**

_**Time: 0743**_

Morning. 

Hot.

**Entry #16**

_**Time: 0842**_

Still morning. 

Still hot.

Thirsty. 

Now sweaty. 

I must stink. 

I need a shower. 

**Entry #17**

_**Time: 1055**_

Still morning. 

Doubly hot.

Thirsty. 

Remind me why I joined the Rebellion.

**Entry #18**

_**Time: 1058**_

Hot. Sticky. 

Still morning. 

Tired. 

Good night. Too hot to type. Too hot to think. 

My shirt lost its other sleeve today. Too hot. 

**Entry #19**

_**Time: 2222**_

I slept all day today. It was too hot to do anything else. I think I've come to the conclusion that I have to become nocturnal. Sleep during the day, work during the night. It's the only way I'm going to get anything done. 

My dry patch is getting smaller. I'm going to have to do something about that eventually, but not now. First, I need to find fresh water. I'm not going to last much longer without a lasting source of water. I forgot to mention that I found a second container today. It was hidden under a pile of fallen branches. There were some water supplies. 

I drank. Now I'm not so thirsty anymore, but I've got to get out of here. I'm going to pack up my things and go for a hike. I doubt I'll be coming back. This place isn't very appealing. 

I'm just hoping that the entire planet isn't made up of jungles. 


	6. Day 6

**Entry #20**

_**Time: 0431**_

_**Time Edited: 0845, 0845, 0845, 0845, 0846, 0846, 0846, 0846, 0846, 0847, 0847**_

I think that the entire planet _is_ made up of jungles. After what I've _walked_ through… 

"Hiked" is a better word, I'm thinking. 

However, there is something that might lighten up my day a little bit. I found Aree. Or, to be more precise, Aree found _me._

Boy, astromech droids are tough. No wonder we use them in our X-Wings, I seriously think Aree can withstand anything. When I hiked through that jungle, he came slundering (is that a word? Slugging? Slundering? Ugh) on out of this big… well, _mud_ puddle swamp thing. All oozing mud and guck and stuff. It was gross. Don't know how he managed it, but Aree's here now and as soon as I find some water I can waste on him, I'll clean him off. 

He's beeping at me right now. He's been twittering all night. 

I HAVE ONLY BEEN "TWITTERING" BECAUSE I HAVE MUD CLINGING TO THE INSIDE OF MY DOME. IT IS MAKING MY SYSTEM MALFUNCTON. 

**Edit: **Yeah, right. 

SYSTEM MALFUNCTION, SYSTEM MALFUNCTION!

**Edit:** Stop that. 

SYSTEM MALFUNCTION!

**Edit:** Stop that or I'll shove you back in the mud. 

YOU WOULD NOT. YOU NEED ME. I CAN GET YOU OUT OF HERE. 

**Edit: **Like hell you can. 

I CAN SEND UP A SIGNAL AND CALL THE REBEL ALLIANCE TO COME TO YOUR AID. 

**Edit: **Not without a ship, you can't and the last ship I saw threw you half a kilometre away when it crashed. 

THAT WAS NO FAULT OF MY OWN. 

**Edit:** My X-Wing probably thought you were annoying as I think you are.

YOUR SHIP AND I WERE COMPATIBLE. THERE WERE NO HARD FEELINGS BETWEEN US. 

**Edit:**Oh, _of course_ not!

YOUR SHIP, HOWEVER, WAS TOO FULL OF ITSELF. 

**Edit: **I'm not really interested. 

IT THOUGHT IT COULD FLY WITHOUT ME. THAT WAS A WRONG ASSUMPTION. 

**Edit:** Hey, look, Aree, I'm not really interested in computer communications—

IT ASSUMED WRONG. 

**Edit: **You've said that already. _Why_ are you hooked up to my datapad! _How did you do that!_

LAST QUESTION IRRELEVANT. ANSWER TO FIRST QUESTION: SO I CAN SPEAK TO YOU. WHERE IS YOUR SHIP NOW?

**Edit: **You don't want to know. It'll plug up your circuits even further. Unplug yourself right now before I—

BEFORE WHAT? YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO. 

**Edit: **What do you know about what humans need?

I OBSERVE HUMANS. I KNOW THEIR NEEDS AND WANTS. 

**Edit:** Do you know why?

IT IS NOT NECESSARY—

_098210938?&83965_

_34509873450982734729987111871_

_2938457918928374—_

_---- 89870987345 1239!23436345_

_134580345719919254_

_0000000100001000100010!00101!_

_2394857!13945709238475!_

_DATAPAD MALFUNCTION_

**Entry #21**

_**Time: ?.!**_

_-------------------_

**Entry #22**

_**Time: ?.**_

_---------------(98098098_

**Entry #23**

_**Time: ?.**_

_----------62346287346827346)_

**Entry #24**

_**Time: ?.**_

h..E..L…P

_9129384710293873487756_

**Entry #25**

_**Time: ?.**_

nO … HELp

_2394857209348283402987847135/45239487/_

**Entry #26**

_**Time: ?.**_

S..TUP..iD D..RoiD

_/12347880083745_

**Entry #27**

_**Time: ?.**_

s…TUP…ID HU…maN

_1398471092384701928374_

**Entry #28**

_**Time: ?.**_

hELp

_13908471029387!0981273_

**Entry #29**

_**Time: ?.**_

tESt oF dATApaD

213412384098!938457

**Entry #30**

_**Time: ?.**_

CheCkin…g TESti…g

tHiS SO dOES not …woRK

_19238470192837!293845!_

_DATAPAD MALFUNCTION_

**Entry #31**

_**Time: 0855**_

Well, that was NOT amusing. Note to self, _never_ let a chatty astromech droid figure out how to connect to your datapad. It causes things to screw up, no matter HOW much the astromech thinks it's clever just because it can communicate with, and I quote, "A DAFT X-WING THAT DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO FLY ITSELF." 

At least, I _think_ that's what Aree said. It's a little difficult to understand all the "bloops" and "bleeps" he makes. He's made enough of them already. 

I turned him off. 

_After_ he fixed my datapad, that is. Although… I did most of the work, because all he could manage was to screw things up again. Aree's just as bad as Wes Janson. That _flyboy_ only manages to mess things up. I wonder how the Rebellion actually _functions_ with him there. Same thing with Jyn. I wonder how in the name of all nine Corellian Hells does his "_music group"_ function with that kid leading them? Note that I put that in quotations. 

I hope Jyn gets some sense knocked into that inflated head of his. Stars know he needs it. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Just like me. Stranded here with a stupid astromech droid. 

Fun, fun, fun. 

I need some fun. I edited my comments to Aree back into that other entry. That's [i_basically/i_ how the conversation went. I don't really remember all too well. I'm kind of tired and I'm in A REALLY BAD MOOD. 

**Entry #32**

_**Time: 0902**_

An afterthought: I wonder if this datapad has any games on it. I've been throwing branches at Aree. It was making me feel better until I hurt my hands. I've got splinters in my palms now and I'm going to have to pick them out. Ugh… and I've just dribbled blood all over the screen. Gross! Stupid splinters! 

I need a good game. Every datapad should have games on them. Or a collection of jokes. Maybe I'll write my own. Or just type in Wes' jokes. 

On second thought… maybe not. Janson has the worst sense of humour in the world. 

**Entry #33**

_**Time: 0903**_

Okay, Kerigan, here's the deal. If something doesn't change between now and the time I write Entry 100, you are going to officially die.

Ugh_…_ You know things are BAD when you start writing to yourself (especially DEATH THREATS, of all things) and referring to yourself in third person. 

Maybe this datapad needs a name. 

NO!

I am not going to fall back to that. I am NOT NOT NOT. 

……_---….129384709879098765!0 …_

Whoops. 

OK, another lesson: stop throwing datapads on the ground. Now I _really_ can't seen the screen.


	7. Day 7

**Entry #34**

**Entries Left: 66**

_**Time: 0631**_

My system is SO screwed up, I can tell. 

SYSTEM MALFUNCTION, as Aree would say. I think I have mud stuck in _my_ dome. If I were an astromech, that is. 

My sleeping patterns are all over the place, my supplies are almost gone and so is my water and I have an annoying astromech droid who won't stop bleeping and blurping in my ears whenever I try to sleep. 

ACK!

AND I've set the timer. It's not really a timer, more like a… counter. Or whatever. It's telling me how many entries I have left until I reach 100. Not that I really need it, but it's a cool add-on. Remind to send my love to the people at _StarSave. _I LOVE THEIR DATAPADS!

**Entry #35**

**Entries Left: 65**

_**Time: 0632**_

Oh, right. I suppose I set the "counter" thingummy to remind me NOT to use up my entries. 

**Entry #36**

**Entries Left: 64**

_**Time: 0633**_

Or maybe I want to. 

**Entry #36**

**Entries Left: 64**

_**Time: 0632**_

_**Time Edited: 1034, 1355, 1422**_

On second thought, maybe not. 

**Edit:**Not much is happening today. I'm continuing my hike. The jungle is actually getting a little, teeny-weeny bit nicer. But not much. By nicer, I mean _dryer._ It's still too hot and sticky… and, yes, I still need a shower. 

Ohh… I just love that word. Shower.

**Edit:**On second thought, I hate the word shower 'CAUSE I'M NOT GOING TO GET ONE. 

I just fell in a mud puddle. 

Aree laughed a very astromech-droidy laugh. I officially hate R2 units. 

**Edit:**

Things Kerigan Lysson Hates

1. Aree.

2. Astromech droids in general. And crashed X-Wings. 

3. Falling trees/branches. 

4. Jungles. 

5. Going to a place that does not have proper showering facilities. 

6. Jyn's music. Thank the stars I CAN'T hear it here. 

7. Wes Janson's jokes. See above for comment. 

8. Having weird eating/sleeping patterns. I can't for the life of me shut my eyes right now. 

9. Jungles again. 

10. Being stuck on a planet with an astromech droid and a datapad. 

11. Saying that the datapad is a bad thing. I love _StarSave!_

12. Imperials: for shooting me down. 

13. Daddy. 

Seriously, Father, I _hope_ you're pleased with where I've ended up. 


	8. Day 8

**Entry #37**

**Entries Left: 63**

_**Time: 0633**_

_**Time Edited: 0645**_

_Checklist:_

1. Provisions: ration bars (17), water containers (4)

2. Clean clothes: shirt (1), pants (1)

3. 

4. 

5. 

6. 

7. 

**Edit: **This is so unbelievably pointless. I thought that it would be a good idea to go over all my provisions and stuff from the junk I managed to salvage after my X-Wing crashed. All those boxes thrown around… that I randomly found. There's not much. There's a good side and a bad side to that. 

Good side: I have food, I have water – I'm going to live. Unless I get brained by a tree, or eaten alive by bugs or whatever else lives on this planet. The weird thing is, I haven't heard any large animals moving around. At least, I think I don't. Not yet, anyways. 

Bad Side: I _have_ to move out of this stinking bug-haven of a jungle-swamp, tropical whatever-it-is. And to do just that, I have to lug _all_ my provisions around with me. Carrying hiking sweat and sore muscles. 

On the bright side (yay! Let's be optimistic… NOT), I have this thingummy of a bag that sort of works to carry my junk. And also, the more I eat and drink, the lighter it gets. But the more and I eat and drink, the less supplies I have so UGH. 

Life is so unfair. This is NOT supposed to happen. Out of all the people in this blasted Galaxy goes and gets themselves _trapped_ on a stinking isolated planet in the middle of nowhere with no way of contacting ANYONE? Really, I'd be happy to see even an IMPERIAL right about now, even if he was trying to blast me. 

That's one thing that's could come in handy that I don't have – a blaster. I guess hunting's out, except that at the moment I can't see anything that I'd want to hunt. Eating bugs isn't my thing and anyways – how do you catch them? I _squish_ them. But not before they create huge, bloody welts on my arms and hands that are so itchy that I can't help scratching them. And now my skins covered with this yellow ooze. I damn hope that the bites aren't infected. I don't have any antibiotics on me. 

Damn it! 

**Entry #38**

**Entries Left: 62**

_**Time: 0700**_

_**Time Edited: 0708, 0708, 0709, 709**_

I'm going for a hike. Aree is bleeping and blooping at me again. He wants to find clean water… or at least I think he does. I can't make any sense of him unless he's

YOU MIGHT FIND IT PRUDENT AT SOME TIME TO NOT SPEAK ALOUD WHILE WRITING. 

DO NOT CALL ME AN "IDIOT." DROIDS ARE INCAPABLE OF "IDIOT-ISM." ONLY SENTIENT BEINGS ARE IDIOTS. I AM NOT A SENTIENT BEING. I AM A DROID. 

ANSWER TO FIRST QUESTION: I DO NOT APPRECIATE YOUR USE OF LANGUAGE. ANSWER TO SECOND QUESTION: I HAVE PLUGGED MYSELF IN AS AN ANSWER TO YOUR REQUEST TO UNDERSTAND MY SPEECH, WHICH YOU HAVE SO PLEASANTLY CALLED "BLOOPING AND BLEEPING." I AM UNAWARE OF THE DEFINITION OF THE VERB "BLOOP." AS MY SYSTEM TELLS ME, THIS WORD DOES NOT EXIST. 

I WILL NOT "SHUT UP." I AM A DROID. YOU WISHED TO SPEAK TO ME AND UNDERSTAND ME. 

CLEAN WATER WOULD BE APPROPRIATE IN OUR CONDITION. YOU HAVE THREE AND A HALF WATER CONTAINERS IN YOUR POSSESSION. HUMANS NEED WATER TO SURVIVE. I NEED TO BE CLEANED. YOU NEED TO DRINK. END OF DISCUSSION. 

I AM NOT A TWIT. 

YOUR LANGUAGE IS NOT APPRECIATED. 

THAT DOES NOT MATTER. 

YOU ARE INCORRECT. DROIDS ARE INCAPABLE OF "STUPID." HUMANS ARE CAPABLE OF STU

**Edit:**

**Edit:**

**Edit:**

**Edit:**

**Edit:**

**Entry #39**

**Entries Left: 61**

_**Time: 0711**_

I swear I will find a way to delete Aree's comments. He's jammed the delete button, the kriffing droid! I can edit as much as I want, but I can't _delete_ comments!

_Idiot droid. _I will say that as much as I like. He is, no matter how much he tells me that these things are only possible for sentient beings to have, really very stupid. And annoying. I can't believe that I wanted to find him a few days ago. Ugh, WHAT was I thinking?

**Entry #40**

**Entries Left: 60**

_**Time: 1811**_

_**Time Edited: 1813, 1822**_

It's hot. It's sticky. It's disgusting. I wish I was back on Meiishan, despite meaning that I'd have to go back to the colony. Wouldn't Daddy be happy? NOT. Of course not. Definitely not. I doubt he cares what happened to "poor little Keri." Or "miss" as he used to call me. Daddy almost never used my name. It was only "Keri" when I was a kid, then "miss" after I turned seven. 

When I was fifteen, "miss" turned into "slut" and a number of other epithets that makes my head spin because I get so angry remembering them. 

That was when I met Jyn, of course. I can still hear the ringing endorsements Father gave me the night he discovered that I was hanging out… well, pretty much _dating_… a "disrespectful" guy like Jyn. I'm sure the echoes of that argument are still bouncing around in the roof of Father's house. 

Ugh, it makes me mad every single time I remember that conversation. Father's angry face – I've never seen him like that. But really, what's so wrong about Jyn? Okay, I'm not overly fond of him myself (lie, lie, lie, Kerigan… I think I still like him, at least some part of me does), but Father's reaction was entirely uncalled for. 

Still, at least Meiishan was nice. A nice planet. Not a very big population, since the colony wasn't all that big. I think Daddy liked it that way. He was oh so _proud_ of his colony. Well, not really _his_ colony, he didn't tell people to settle on Meiishan, but still, he's the richest person there he practically _owns_ the place. 

The weather was decent. 

I'd give anything for decent weather. And a shower. 

And a chance to punch Jyn in the face for that time on Corellia with the swimming pool incident that I just remembered. I think he needs it. The punch, I mean.

**Edit: **I forgot to say this one important thing: it's dry. Ish. _Dry-ish!_ Thank the Force and all things mystical-energy related! Woohoo! The land is less swampy, jungly and wet! I have not one, but many dry patches to sleep on, but I still have plenty of mud-ponds to choose from in case I ever want to throw Aree in for reprogramming my datapad or whatever the hell it is he did to it. 

**Edit: **My stomach is growling. I'm sick to death of ration bars. Tasteless _and_ disgusting. What I wouldn't give for some Mugruebe stew (thank you Keyan Farlander!). 


	9. Days 9, 10, 11, 12

**Entry #41**

**Entries Left: 59**

_**Time: 1857**_

Today has been the worst day of my life. I think. Maybe not. I've had a lot of bad days, like the time when Daddy dearest kicked me out of the house. Or when Mom died. Or when I was shot down.

Kriffing Imperials. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have ended my career so quickly. I was only just getting started. I remember General Rieekan telling me that I had "potential." Janson then told me immediately afterwards, "Yeah, potential to fail." I think he was joking – Janson's _always_ joking – but that comment really got me fired up. I _almost_ slapped him, if Wedge hadn't gotten in the way. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I got told off several times after that – first by Wedge, and then by Tycho Clechu and pretty much the rest of Rogue Squadron. Ugh! That was really embarrassing. They all treat me like some kid, but I'm really not all that much younger than them. I'm just a rookie – but I still have just as much to fight for as they do. More than some, maybe.

Tropical environments do not agree with me. I'd rather be on Hoth right now. Believe me, I'd take the cold over the heat anyday of my life. This is just too much to bear. I feel like I'm trying to breathe water. It's muggy and sticky and buggy.

Today the jungle thinned out to a rainforest. Oooh, _so_ much better. Not. It may be dryer, but every pool of water I've come across so far has been filled with algae. The algae is disgusting. It's multicoloured. _Multicoloured._ Pink, green, yellow, red, magenta, purple – you name it, it's there. A little rainbow of digusting _stuff_ that's preventing me from getting fresh drinking water. Oh joy. I hope I can find a river or a stream or something that's not standing still.

* * *

**Entry #42**

**Entries Left: 58**

_**Time: 1721**_

I have a grand total of one and a half water containers left. Oh joy. That stream better be somewhere soon.

**Entry #43**

**Entries Left: 57**

_**Time: 1734**_

Why am I constantly writing on this datapad? You'd think I'd have something better to do than to sit with my back to a tree typing on this thing.

**Entry #44**

**Entries Left: 56**

_**Time: 2421**_

WHILE I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOUR HUMAN EMOTIONS, I DO BELIEVE I MAY BE ABLE TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION POSTED IN ENTRY #43. PERHAPS YOU ENJOY TYPING ON THIS DATAPAD BECAUSE IT GIVES YOU A LINK TO YOUR PAST, TO TECHNOLOGY. HUMANS LIKE BEING AROUND TECHNOLOGY, I HAVE NOTICED. OTHERWISE, THEY WOULD NOT HAVE CREATED US DROIDS TO HELP THEM.

DOES THAT GIVE YOU PEACE OF MIND?

* * *

**Entry #45**

**Entries Left: 55**

_**Time: 0603**_

_Stang!_ That droid was writing on MY DATAPAD!

Honestly! And trying to give me "advice" too! WHILE I WAS SLEEPING!

How bad can this get?

I hate you, Aree. AND DON'T YOU DARE DELETE THAT COMMENT!!

Kriffing droid.

**Entry #46**

**Entries Left: 54**

_**Time: 1448**_

Today's hike wasn't too bad. I drained a lot of water from the water containers when I accidentally sloshed some of it out going uphill while trying to drink. Note to self: stop to take a drink of water, don't walk and drink at the same time.

So much for conserving water.

Stang!

**Entry #47**

**Entries Left: 53**

_**Time: 1536**_

Have you ever felt so disgusting in your life that you swear you can see the sweat building up in layers on your skin?

I feel like that now. _So gross._ It's… ugh! I want a shower, dammit! I want a shower now. Gross, gross, gross. I say that every single uninhabited planet ought to be installed with shower houses so when people like me crash-land on them, we'll have somewhere to wash!

I wish I had soap. I want soap.

You really have no idea how much you appreciate things like soap until you can't have them. Even the Rebellion had soap, even though there were times when we were on short supply. Thankfully the guys usually lent their soap to us female pilots.

Unless their name starts with "Wes" and ends with "Janson."

I will _never_ forget that. If I ever get off that stinking planet, I am going to find Wes Janson and steal every single piece of soap he owns. And then I will bribe every single soap company in the Galaxy to boycott him so he will never, EVER be able to buy another piece of soap again!

**Entry #48**

**Entries Left: 52**

_**Time: 1900**_

_**Time Edited: 1903, 1904, 1905, 2001**_

I'm getting low on ration bars. I hate their taste as well. Ugh.

**Edit:** I think I heard something moving in the rainforest.

**Edit:** It's creeping me out.

**Edit:** I don't think I'm going to go to sleep tonight.

**Edit:** Success! I climbed my first tree! Except for a few bruises and scraps and my hands hurting like crazy right now, I'm all right! I just hope that the scrapes heal up soon. I don't really want them to get infected on me.

Stars, I'm going to have to stop hurting myself.

**Entry #49**

**Entries Left: 51**

_**Time: 2359**_

I NOTE THAT YOU ARE PARTICULARLY JUMPY FOR A HUMAN. MAYBE THAT IS WHY YOU DECIDED TO SLEEP IN THE TREE.

I MUST ADD THAT I AM ASTOUNDED THAT YOU EVEN MANAGED TO GET UP THERE, CONSIDERING ALL YOUR PREVIOUS FAILED ATTEMPTS AT CLIMBING TREES. I MUST CONGRATULATE YOU – HOWEVER, I WILL NOT. YOU HAVE JUST LOST YOUR DATAPAD, AS IT HAD FALLEN OUT OF THE TREE AND LANDED ON THE GROUND. AT LEAST I FOUND IT FOR YOU.

YOU CAN THANK ME IN THE MORNING WHEN YOU WAKE UP.

**Edit:** AN AFTERTHOUGHT – YOU SNORE JUST AS LOUDLY AS WES JANSON AND THE REST OF ROGUE SQUADRON PUT TOGETHER.

* * *

**Entry #50**

**Entries Left: 50**

_**Time: 0649**_

BLAST IT! I hate that droid!

Kriffing Aree. Stupid droid for writing on MY datapad when I was sleeping. I DO NOT SNORE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

Stupid datapad for falling out of my pocket while I was sleeping.

Stupid gravity for _letting_ it fall out of my pocket while I was sleeping.

You know, I don't think I ever quite realized how much I hate gravity. Gravity is… like… I don't know… the most annoying thing in the universe. It makes you fall. It crashes your X-Wing on stupid, random planets when you get hit by enemy fire.

It makes your head hurt when you fall out of a tree that you spent about a half an hour trying to climb so you could sleep in peace at night. A tree that already bruised you when you tried to climb it.

Why do I feel like every single thing in this Galaxy is aspiring against me?!

HELP!

**Entry #51**

**Entries Left: 49**

_**Time: 1200**_

Oh goody.

Ration bars for lunch. I had ration bars already.

I hate ration bars.

But I have to love them at the same time, since they're my only food!

What the hell am I going to do when they run out?

**Edit:** On the plus side, the rainforest is getting less and less thick. I'm still going uphill, though. And there's rocks. BIG rocks. Really nasty rocks. And tree roots. I just tripped over one. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Jyn always said I was the clumsiest person in the Galaxy. Uncle Kallen always said that too. And my nanny. And half of Rogue Squadron and pretty much all of the Rebels. I think Janson might have made a joke one day behind my back about how clumsy I am. Something about me being able to alert the Empire to our location just by tripping over my feet… I can't remember how it goes.

Ugh. Oh well. I don't really care. I don't really want to think about jokes. I _hate_ getting made fun of. It really is disconcerting when you walk into a room and everyone spends the entire time giggling and laughing at _something_ and you can't help but wonder what it is until you come to the conclusion that it _has_ to be something about you.

Although, to tell the truth, I don't think I'd really mind having a bunch of people laughing at me right now. I'd LOVE in. Just to see someone's face instead of a bunch of jungle trees and a crazy R2 unit that hacks into my datapad when I'm asleep.

Ugh!

**Entry #52**

**Entries Left: 48**

_**Time: 1809**_

I just realized that I've been here for twelve days.

TWELVE STINKING DAYS!

I'm not sure if I should be proud of myself or not.

Maybe survival's easier than I thought. I _ought_ to be proud of myself. But I bet that if Jyn or Janson or anyone else found out that I had survived twelve days on an isolated planet with nothing but a datapad, a stupid R2 unit and limited supplies, they'd say it was a fluke of nature.

I can just _hear_ the jokes. Ugh.


	10. Day 13

**Entry #53**

**Entries Left: 47**

_**Time: 1444**_

If humans could fly, I'd be soaring into the sky for joy right now.

If humans could fly… I would have found this place _so_ much faster!

Today, I feel LUCKY! Ugh, I thought I'd _never_ be saying that, but it's true! It's a miracle. It's a marvel. It's a… something else that starts with "M" and is synonymous with miracle and marvel!

I'M FREE OF THE JUNGLE! WOOOHOOO!

The triple "O"s are just necessary. I'm overjoyed. Exhilarated. Ridiculously happy. No more trees. No more bugs. No more mud.

Okay, truth be told, there's still trees. I can still see them – that ever annoying rainforest that goes on forever and ever and ever. But that doesn't matter now. I'm out of it.

I'm standing on a BEACH! A BEACH, of all things! I don't think I've ever been happier to see a beach in my life (especially after what happened at the _last_ beach I was on)! It's like… I don't know what! I've hated sand, but now I love it! I used to hate wind, but now I love it! It keeps away the bugs! _And_ it's finally light out! No trees in the way. I can see the SUN!

I'm so happy I _could_ fly!

If I had my X-Wing… or spontaneously grew wings…

WHEEEEEEEE!!

**Entry #54**

**Entries Left: 46**

_**Time: 1250**_

YOU DO REALIZE THAT THE WATER IS SALT? YOU CANNOT DRINK SALT WATER. YOU SHOULD NOT BE PURSUING THE ACTIVITY CALLED SWIMMING RIGHT NOW. YOU ARE EXHAUSTED FROM HIKING. YOU NEED TO FIND FRESH

**Entry #55**

**Entries Left: 45**

_**Time: 1330**_

Stupid droid. I'm going to have to find places to hide my datapad.

AREE, FOR THE FINAL TIME, YOU ARE _NOT_ MY MOTHER!!

HA! Take _that_ next time you log on!

Hmph. Maybe I should splash more water on him. He didn't like that, but I SAW him plugging into my datapad. I don't need anymore of his comments on here, thank you very much.

**Entry #56**

**Entries Left: 43**

_**Time: 1350**_

You have no idea how refreshing swimming in the water is. That ocean goes on FOREVER! It's… I don't know what! Wonderful. The water is so fresh, and who cares if it's salty or not? I love swimming. I love this beach. It's such a nice change from tropical, bug-invested wetland.

Swimming's _almost_ as good as a shower. At least I'm no longer dirt covered. And Aree can finally stop complaining about mud being stuck under his dome. I washed him as well, after I finished swimming and changed into the one pair of clean clothes that I have in my makeshift pack. I wish I had more.

I guess shopping sprees are a little difficult on an isolated planet. _Fuuun._ Not!

I'll try washing my clothes sometime tomorrow. For now, I'm curling up in the sun and taking a nap. I've got my boots off. It's so nice to be able to wiggle your toes in the sand after having them cramped in tight boots for TWELVE DAYS!

Paradise!

Who cares if I'm short on water, I'm clean!

I'll look for water later. I just _have_ to take a nap.

**Entry #57**

**Entries Left: 42**

_**Time: 1701**_

_**Time Edited: 1705**_

Kriff Daddy for giving me pale skin.

I'm SUNBURNT!

Where's sun lotion when you need it?

Gah!

Stupid sun! And now I have a headache too. Aree's laughing at me. I can hear him. I told him to go roll himself into the ocean and wash his circuits out. Stars know he needs it, I don't think I'll be able to take ONE MORE kriffing "bleep" or "bloop" from him!

**Edit:** Remind me to add "bloop" to the Galactic Basic Dictionary when I get off this place. Let's see how Aree takes _that!_


	11. Day 14

**Entry #58**

**Entries Left: 42**

_**Time: 1100**_

I slept really late. I only just woke up – because some _droid_ was squealing at me. I guess I better go see what he wants.

**Entry #59**

**Entries Left: 41**

_**Time: 1105**_

I DO NOT SQUEAL. SQUEALING IS A SOUND DROIDS ARE INCAPABLE OF IMITATING. ONLY SENTIENT BEINGS ARE CAPABLE OF SQUEALING.

**Entry #60**

**Entries Left: 40**

_**Time: 1108**_

I think Aree does this just to annoy me. Stars, if Aree was a sentient being, I'd _hate_ to be around him even more than I already do. He'd be as bad a Jyn.

Like Jyn wasn't bad enough.

**Entry #61**

**Entries Left: 39**

_**Time: 1110**_

I AM CURIOUS TO KNOW WHO THIS "JYN" PERSON IS.

I SEE YOU WILL NOT TELL ME.

OR PERHAPS YOU WILL, JUDGING FROM YOUR EXPRESSION.

DO NOT THROW SAND AT ME, YOUNG MISS! IT IS DISRESPECTFUL TO A REPUTATBLE ASTOMRECH SUCH AS MYSELF.

OH. I SEE YOUR PROBLEM. HOWEVER, I CANNOT SYMPATHIZE. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE HUMAN MIND. WHAT EVER POSSESSED YOU TO DO THAT?

WAS IT REBELLION AGAINST YOUR FATHER?

212039487ljgh81fadk.fgjn8D7FGHEilugrs!!/

**Entry #62**

**Entries Left: 38**

_**Time: 1118**_

I SWEAR I will KILL that droid!

Or, just throw more sand at him. He's not happy. He's squealing again.

I suppose it's not really helping the situation, since this is the only way to properly decipher Aree's bloops and beeps, but really… I don't need harassment from him as well as everyone else I've ever met! Save your thoughts on Jyn and me. I was happy. Got it? HAPPY!

Like _that_ will ever happen again.

I'm not so happy anymore.

I'm trapped on a planet, sitting in the sand, watching the waves beat down on a foreign shore. The sky is very blue, the sun is bright and I have no idea where the hell I am. It doesn't get much better than this.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

I have no idea what the point of that was. Typing random junk.

And I have 38 entries left to live! Woohoo! (-- example of a sarcastic "woohoo")

I wish I could go flying. I _want_ to go flying. Flying was another place I was happy.

IS, IS, IS! AM, AM, AM! _AM_ happy!

Grammar correction!

Stars, what's gotten into me?

Oh… stang, Aree's bleeping at me again.

WHAT?!

**Entry #63**

**Entries Left: 37**

_**Time: 1400**_

Aree's finally utilized his scanners and found fresh water for me. It's a river that flows right out into the ocean. It was about a two hours walk from where I was. At least it's fresh water that I can drink! I've refilled the canisters. That's refreshing.

Now, if only I can find a way to _eat…_ My rations are getting _really_ thin right about now.

**Entry #64**

**Entries Left: 36**

_**Time: 1555**_

I'm bored. I'm sitting at the edge of the river. It flows right out of the rainforest/jungle/what-do-you-call-it.


	12. Day 15 Morning

**Entry #65**

**Entries Left: 35**

_**Time: 0633**_

I'm hungry.

I hate waking up hungry. My stomach's growling… again. Rations are still thin. That's not a surprise. I keep trying not to think about food, but whenever I tell myself _not_ to think about food, I start thinking about food. All those lovely soups and salads and stuff that they used to have at business dinners when my dad took me to Coruscant… and then all that strange stuff that Jyn used to try to make me eat. There was this weird purple stuff, I can't remember what it was called… I hated it at the time, I only ate it because he was intent on force-feeding me at the time, stupid guy. I'd love to see that stuff right now.

Now… what was it called?

**Entry #66**

**Entries Left: 34**

_**Time: 0638**_

IT SHOULD NOT CONCERN YOU WHAT THE FOODSTUFF IS CALLED. YOU HAVE OTHER PRIORITIES TO ATTEND TO. YOU HAVE WATER. YOUR FOOD RATIONS ARE LOW. GO FIND BIRDS' EGGS OR SOMETHING SIMILAR.

**Entry #67**

**Entries Left: 33**

_**Time: 0639**_

Well, excuse me, mister, but where am I supposed to find _birds' eggs_ when I haven't seen any birds?

**Entry #68**

**Entries Left: 32**

_**Time: 0640**_

CLIMB A TREE. YOU HAVE TAKEN SURVIVAL TRAINING, CORRECT?

**Entry #69**

**Entries Left: 31**

_**Time: 0641**_

Hey, don't get clever with me, I can take care of myself without your help

**Entry #70**

**Entries Left: 30**

_**Time: 0641**_

OF COURSE. YOUR STOMACH GROWLED AGAIN. MY SENSORS ARE TELLING ME THAT YOU ARE HUNGRY, BORDERING ON RAVENOUS.

**Entry #71**

**Entries Left: 29**

_**Time: 0642**_

_Excuse me?!_

**Entry #72**

**Entries Left: 28**

_**Time: 0643**_

THIS CONVERSATION IS FUTILE. WERE YOU NOT CONCERNED ABOUT HOW MANY ENTRIES YOU WERE USING? STOP ARGUING AND GO SEARCH FOR FOOD. I WILL AID YOU IN YOUR SEARCH.

**Entry #73**

**Entries Left: 27**

_**Time: 0644**_

Hang on a minute, little droid, _I'm_ the one in command here. You take orders from me, not the other way around!

How many entries are left?

**Entry #74**

**Entries Left: 26**

_**Time: 0645**_

PERHAPS YOU HAVE GONE BLIND. THIS DEVICE STATES THAT THERE ARE A TOTAL OF TWENTY-SIX ENTRIES LEFT BEFORE YOU REACH ONE HUNDRED ENTRIES. I DO BELIEVE THAT YOU SAID YOU WOULD DIE IF YOU REACHED ONE HUNDRED ENTRIES.

**Entry #75**

**Entries Left: 25**

_**Time: 0646**_

Bucket of laughs you are – I have NOT gone blind! I can see that there are twenty-six frakkin' entries left!

**Entry #76**

**Entries Left: 24**

_**Time: 0646**_

TO BE CORRECT, IT IS NOW TWENTY-FIVE.

CORRECTION: TWENTY-SIX. I AM USING THE TWENTY-SIXTH ENTRY TO GIVE YOU THIS MESSAGE.

**Entry #77**

**Entries Left: 23**

_**Time: 0647**_

You don't have to be insulting!

**Entry #78**

**Entries Left: 22**

_**Time: 0648**_

CORRECTION: I DO NOT HAVE THE CAPACITY TO BE INSULTING. I AM A DROID. I DO NOT INSULT.

**Entry #79**

**Entries Left: 21**

_**Time: 0649**_

Oh, you little liar. You little astromechy liar.

**Entry #80**

**Entries Left: 20**

_**Time: 0650**_

INFORMATION: YOUR STOMACH GROWLED AGAIN.

GO CLIMB A TREE.

**Entry #81**

**Entries Left: 19**

_**Time: 0651**_

What?!

**Entry #82**

**Entries Left: 18**

_**Time: 1030**_

As per astromech droid advice (I can't believe I even said that), I climbed a tree. And scraped my knee. And fell out of it again, into the mud, but not before I found a birds' nest. There were eggs in it. Two REALLY big birds' eggs. Bright orange with fuchsia strips. Really ugly. I think they should be shipped to Coruscant to take fashion lessons. "What Not To Wear." Right.

Aree was nice enough to get some driftwood together by the time I got back from climbing the tree. He lit it on fire. Note to self – if I ever get off this planet and have to misfortune to be stuck on another planet like this one, get stuck with an astromech droid. They're actually quite helpful. When they're not acting like they're your mother.

I hate that droid sometimes.

Anyways, I'm using my ration bar case as a dinner plate. Improvisation, yeah? Yeah. Spiffy. Hot cooked eggs on metal case. It could be worse.

Are those storm clouds on the horizon?

_**Edit: **_The wind just blew sand into my freshly cooked eggs! YEUCH!

**Entry #83**

**Entries Left: 17**

_**Time: 1130**_

They were storm clouds. Now it's raining and I'm crouched under a tree, trying _not_ to get wet. I can see a bird. It's a really big bird – bright pink too. And by pink, I mean _really_ pink. The sort of pink that some girls dye their hair to make a fashion statement at the opera on Coruscant. I hate that colour!

**Entry #84**

**Entries Left: 16**

_**Time: 1150**_

It's been twenty minutes. The bird's still staring at me.

I'm officially creeped out.


	13. Day 15 Afternoon

**Entry #85  
Entries Left: 15  
**_**Time: 1918**_

oKAY, SO TODAY WAS NOT FUN at all. Whoops, caps lock on. And the delete button isn't working for some reason. I think it's because I accidentally dropped the frakkin' datapad on the ground when I was up that tree. This poor thing is getting so beat up. I hope it holds together. I don't know what I'd do without it.

Quick, someone get me a psychiatrist! When your datapad becomes dearer to you than people, _that_ is 1) creepy and 2) it means you're bizarre.

Even if you're nowhere near anyone. Yeuch.

There was a time when I was about five or six or something when I told Daddy dearest that I really wanted a Manollium bird, or a whisper bird. I loved birds. I really did – and because they could fly, I wanted to fly, too. That's why I wanted to be able to pilot an X-Wing – so I could fly up and beyond where the birds are. After all, humans can't fly without support, unless you're a Jedi or something. And all they do is use the Force to throw themselves at the ground and miss.

When you put it like that, it makes them sound kind of stupid. But then, no one really knows much about the Jedi. There really aren't any Jedi anymore. I mean, the closest person I can think of to a Jedi is Luke Skywalker…

I wonder if he can throw himself at the ground and miss.

ANYWAYS, I'm getting distracted here. I'm writing while trying to eat dead bird that Aree helped me cook and I burned my fingers on and then he yelled at me, except I could tell what he was saying because he wasn't plugged into the datapad.

So, back this morning, there was this bird staring me. This big, freakin' CREEPY bird. I mean, really creepy. Big and pink. So, it's sitting there in the tree, staring at me, and I'm sitting on the ground, covered in mud and leaves and it's raining, so I'm wet and then the bird goes SQUAWK.

Now, I wasn't sure if that was aimed at _me_ or not, but it was pretty loud and didn't sound all too nice. So I sat there and stared at it.

And then it went SQUAWK again.

And I went STARE.

Stars, that sounds stupid. Now that I'm living totally alone, am I degrading back into a child? Heh, I know what Jyn would say: "You're _always_ going to be a kid, kid."

Thanks, Jyn. Really, thanks. He told me that right after Dad got mad at me for something stupid. Can't remember what now. But that was before he knew that I was dating Jyn and whenever I told Jyn something or complained about Daddy dearest treating me like a six year old, he'd say that I _do_ act like a kid and that was why he liked me.

To be brutally honest, I kind of miss Jyn right now. Despite everything, he always knew what to say.

Stars, it's really hard to eat and type at the same time. Especially with burnt fingers. And my food is really gross, too.

**Entry #86  
Entries Left: 14  
**_**Time: 2003**_

So, the bird was staring at me. And going SQUAWK, SQUAWK, SQUAWK. And I was staring back at it and then all of a sudden, it blinked and swooped down the tree – at me. That's when I got up and ran, right through the forest and back to the beach. All the while, I had this big, fat PINK thing on my tail, zooming through the trees after me. Must have looked pretty ridiculous.

So I'm running, and sliding and ruined my clothes (again), and then I fell in the river because I wasn't watching where I was going. And the pink thing is still coming after me, and I was getting pretty annoyed at it because a) it's a bird and b) it's PINK. It's kind of embarrassing to be chased by something that's _pink._ So undignified. I hope no one ever reads about this.

The bird was almost on me when I got to the other side. Then it did get me, right after I pulled myself out of the river. It was still raining like hell at this point. And then the bird had the gall to run right into me – sideways.

We're on a beach, right. Well, sort of. Close to the shore, right where the river dumps into the water. And with the rain, it's windy. The bird got out of the forest and was struggling with the wind when it came for me, and it went SQUAWK, SQUAWK SQUAWK as the wind turned it on its side and blew it into me.

I have to admit, the bird was pretty soft. Just not its beak. It had a pretty long beak, like half a foot or something. And sharp at the end. I know, because my hand then got a prick. I'm probably going to have a scar or something.

It's claws were pretty sharp too, because it was trying to scratch me with them. Pink fury. I think I'll call it that. I don't want to meet any more of them.

I wish I had a blaster, because that would have made things at least a hundred times easier, but I survived. Aree came trundling along in the wet sand just as the wind blew the bird off me (thank you, wind! It was some pretty strong wind) and then electrified it. Bird fell down. And then I whacked it with a stick, just to be on the safe side.

It was kind of gross. I don't like killing things. Really, I don't.

Yeuch. Especially Pink Furies.

Once the storm calmed down, I went on a search for some dry wood. Aree and I made a fire and then I tried to cook and clean the bird. Pretty gross. They should teach people how to do that in survival studies. Droids can't do everything, especially not astromechs!

I can't eat all of the bird, but at least I got some food. That's good. I still have a few ration bars left. I've been saving those just in case of accidents or something. I doubt I'll be able to eat any more of the bird, so I think I'll bury it. It's going to be infested with those little icky things that like fresh meat once I leave it alone. By tomorrow, it'll have gone bad and I don't really want to get sick.

And that's the story of the Pink Fury.


	14. Days 16 & 17

**Entry #87**

**Entries Left: 13**

_**Time: 1601**_

Today was particularly productive. Sort of. At least, where thoughts are concerned. And that counts for something, doesn't it? Basically, it started like this:

It was raining when I woke up. I'm beginning to hate rain. I'm beginning to hate being wet. Actually, delete that – I _do_ hate being wet and I _do_ hate rain. Yeuch. I'm tired of being so wet that I'm likely to stay so sodden my skin will go all wrinkly. This planet likes rain, I've realized. It has like a love affair with rain. It never stops _raining._ No wonder the plants here are so ginormous and everything. Maybe I'll move to Tatooine after I get off this slimy rock.

So, I started thinking. Why not build a shelter? I have an R2 unit who'll be able to cut through some of the wood – if I can find non-wet wood – so I'll probably be able to scratch something together and keep the rain _off._

Once the rain stopped (which was really late in the afternoon) I went looking for wood. I found some and piled it up on the beach. Tomorrow I'm going to start building something. Or, at least, Aree is going to start building something. _I _can't cut through wood. In the meantime, I'm going to look for some more birds' eggs and this time, I'm not going to run into any more Pink Furies.

(I hope).

**Entry #88**

**Entries Left: 12**

_**Time: 1859**_

I found three eggs! Lucky me! And all my ration bars are gone!

Oh… I have a really, really bad feeling about this. Welcome to starvation, Keri. Maybe there are some plants that are edible. Problem is, I don't know what is what!

* * *

**Entry #89**

**Entries Left: 11**

_**Time: 1347**_

WHEN YOU RETURN FROM FROLICKING IN THE JUNGLE, YOU WILL READ THIS NOTICE. **I. AM. NOT. A. WOODCHOPPER! **

**Entry #90**

**Entries Left: 10**

_**Time: 1549**_

So, basically, Aree's not thrilled with me right now. I had him cutting wood all day long while I looked for food. Well, a girl's got to eat _somehow._ I didn't meet anymore Pink Furies, but I found this really odd looking thing. It's like half-reptile, half-bird. It's orange and yellow and it has pink wings and is really funky looking. I don't like it.

I think it's the pink wings.

It followed me home.

**Entry #91**

**Entries Left: 9**

_**Time: 1643**_

Great. I have a pet now. The Funny Thing That Followed Me Home is curled up by my feet.

It has fangs.

Should I be worried now?

**Entry #92**

**Entries Left: 8**

_**Time: 1909**_

I just noticed this and I think I might have a slight problem developing: there's a rash on my hand. I'm not sure how it got there and it's getting really itchy and it's making my skin look weird. It's all… bumpy and yellow and red.

Um… I don't think this is good.

**Entry #93**

**Entries Left: 7**

_**Time: 2023**_

Rash is getting worse. Maybe because I only just noticed it and am now watching it. It's really, really, really itchy! Ugh! Where's hand lotion when you need it? I wish this datapad came with those little facey things that express your emotions, because I could really use the "Face That Is Disgruntled" one right now. Itchy!

On the up side, Aree finished cutting wood. We can start trying to build the shelter tomorrow.

The Funny Thing That Followed Me Home just slinked off. I wonder where it went. Hopefully it went away for good.

**Entry #94**

**Entries Left: 6**

_**Time: 2208**_

Well, I just got woken up by the Funny Thing That Followed Me Home. It was staring me in the face and its eyes were crossed. It was kind of creepy.

I hate this planet.

But it brought me a present. At least, I think it's a present. It's a rodent of some kind. I _think_ it's edible. At least, it's quite dead so I don't have to kill anything this time.


	15. Days 18 & 19

**Entry #95**

**Entries Left: 5**

_**Time: 1203**_

This morning, I worked on setting up a shelter. The FTTFMH brought me another rodent. I cooked the first one it brought me for breakfast. It was okay.

Rash is getting worse.

The FTTFMH keeps crossing its eyes. It's getting creepy.

**Entry #96**

**Entries Left: 4**

_**Time: 1609**_

I have splinters in my hands. I finished working on the shelter a couple hours ago, but the frakkin' thing left splinters in my hands! I've been trying to get them out, but it hurts like hell. Ow, ow, ow…

The FTTFMH is staring at me. It's whirring.

I wonder what it wants?

**Entry #97**

**Entries Left: 3**

_**Time: 1959**_

Shelter collapsed while I was taking a short nap. Oh boy.

The FTTFMH brought me another rodent.

* * *

**Entry #98**

**Entries Left: 2**

_**Time: 1757**_

I spent all day working on getting the shelter back up. So now, with Aree's help, it's fine. I think it will stay up and not collapse on me during the night. Hopefully it will withstand strong winds as well.

In other news, the rash has begun to spread up my arm. Yeuch. I really don't know what caused it.

In other, other news, the FTTFMH keeps staring at me. It's a really odd thing. It's like it's trying to guess when I'm hungry or not, because it keeps bringing me rodents. I just wish it would show me what plants are edible, 'cause I'd _really_ like to eat something that's rodent-free.

Honestly, who wants to live off of rodents for the rest of their lives? Not me.

**Entry #99**

**Entries Left: 1**

_**Time: 2205**_

_**Time Edited: 2235**_

I made a big fire. It's nice and warm. Aree's trundling around on the sand. He's still not happy with me. Stupid droid.

STUPID HUMAN.

Oh, look, you're back.

THANKS TO YOU, I HAVE SAND IN MY GEARS.

Oh, go cry me a river! Of… of gear oil or something!

You have sand in your gears. What a great surprise. We're on a _beach._ Well, I have SPLINTERS in my hands from re-setting up the shelter today and let me tell you, that hurts a lot more than sand in your gears!

THERE IS NO NEED TO BE INSULTING. I CAN HELP YOU TAKE THE SPLINTERS OUT.

**Edit: **It would be great not to have Aree twerp at me every day. Stupid droid. At least he got the splinters out, but now his ego's inflated. "Look at me, I'm the astromech droid who can act as a medic! Woohoo!"

Oi.

Let's just hope my hands don't get infected. That's the last thing I want, since I've still got this horrid rash.

Oh look, there goes the FTTFMH. I wonder what he wants?


	16. Day 23

_**No entries for Days 20, 21 and 22  
**_

* * *

**Entry #100**

**Entries Left: 0**

_**Time: 2248**_

When I said that I would die when I reached my 100th entry, I wasn't being serious! Honest! But someone seems to think I should have. These past three days have been living hell and I'm surprised I'm even here to tell the tale. If it wasn't for that log that washed up on shore a couple days ago right when I was running out of driftwood, I don't know where I'd be.

I'd hate to hear what the guys would say if they could see me now. Wes would probably have some kind of wise-crack joke about Rebels vs. Imperials that would last for days… weeks… months… Ugh.

Okay. Here's what happened. I'm starting to wonder if I should even bother writing it down or not, but if this is going to keep me from going insane (which is becoming a very likely prospect), then why not?

Three days ago, I went to the river to re-stock my water containers. I was just minding my own business and everything when all of a sudden I'm staring into the face of some random guy whose standing on the opposite bank. I swear I did a double-take – another person _here?_ Not possible, right?

Wrong.

For a moment, I swear I thought I was hallucinating, 'cause the guy has red hair. I could have sworn it was Jyn and therefore I _had_ officially gone crazy – probably too much sun and not enough sun lotion – I KNOW sunburn's bad for you! – but then he started talking.

Well, more like gurgling in horror or something. I also noticed at that point that there was no possible way he could be Jyn because of his skin colour.

Anyways, I asked him who he was, but he didn't answer. _Then_ I asked him what was so shocking about a long-haired, sun-tanned girl filling up water containers.

He just stood there and stared at me. When he finally recovered, he did the last thing I expected. Thank the stars and everything all mystically and Force-energy for the water container, even though I lost a lot of water that day.

The guy shot at me. No idea where he got his blaster, but the bolt hit my water canister and it broke apart.

Filthy Imperial!

I'm getting to that.

I was so shocked by the shot that I screamed, lost my balance and kind of fell into the river. He shot at me once more – or maybe it was a couple of times, but missed because the current was carrying me away and I was out of range pretty quickly.

Thank the stars.

When I finally managed to climb out of the river, I made my way back "home." Aree wasn't very happy to see me. He kind of twerped at me and rolled away. Then something fell on my head. I looked up at the tree.

The FTTFMH was dropping dead rodents on my head.

Yeuch.

And that was encounter number one.

Encounter number two didn't occur until a day after encounter number one.

Two days ago I got chased out of my "home" and adopted a stalker. I spent two harrowing days in the jungle, sans Aree, armed only with sticks and barely sleeping for fear for my life because that Imperial was running through the jungle with his blaster, looking everywhere for me.

Not only are Imperials very good pilots (they shot me down and that's why I'm here in the first place!), but they also make excellent stalkers. They must go to Stalker School or something, that's why everyone's afraid of the Empire. I've never been so afraid in my life (except when they shot me down). The only good thing that came out of it is that I learned how to climb trees very well. I've got it down to an art. I should start a How to Climb Trees School once I'm out of here.

But I'm getting distracted. There's a fundamental GAP in Imperial Education, even if they do go to Stalker School. The GAP is this: they don't know when to look up. Thank the Force and all things mystical energy-y, because otherwise I wouldn't be alive to write this entry.

(Yes, I know it's the 100th. Impending death once I'm done writing.)

It's never a good thing when you're alone in the dark with only a pointed stick for defence against some creep with a blaster who's stalking you through the jungle of an unknown planet. I don't know how many times I said, "I'm going to die" those nights.

Days.

Whatever.

So, I became pretty proficient at climbing trees and used that to my advantage. The nice thing about the jungle is that all the trees are interconnected somehow. It's like its own set of roads up there. I just stayed in the trees until _he_ gave up.

And then I followed him back "home."

The stalked became the stalker. Except I was an unarmed stalker. Still…

When I got home, I was pretty mad. The dirty sithspawn had taken over my house! Okay, I know it's not much of a house, but STILL! He hasn't hurt Aree, at least, but he had turned him off. That mad me really mad. I hope Aree got to zap him once before he got shut down.

This was around when I finally got absolute proof that he was an Imperial. I noticed the insignia on his clothes. If I hadn't already been able to tell he was an Imperial through and through – and judging from the fact that he didn't have a massive beard yet and his clothes were still in fairly good condition – he _had_ to be one of those Imperial TIE fighters my squadron ran into. And fought.

And lost to.

But not before taking down a few of them with us!

This rattled me quite a bit and I think I kind of lost it. He was eating when I swung out of my tree by way of vine and whacked him really good and hard with my stick. I didn't knock him out though. That came later.

It wasn't a very good fight. Sand's pretty bad to be fighting on. I managed to give him a black eye, but he gave me one right back and things really weren't going well at all because he's a lot bigger than me. He was just going for his blaster when I knocked the thing out of his hands with a well-placed kick and managed to knock him over.

Who said I was never good at hand-to-hand combat?

Oh right… Jyn.

And the guy just stared at me and I stared right back at him and we both reached for the gun – and then he just keels over and falls asleep! And I'm sitting there, just staring at him, thinking, "Look, buddy, if you're going to fall asleep on the job, how the hell did you pass all your flying exams at the Academy?"

Well, I might as well use the situation to my advantage. I reactivated Aree and got him to cut down some vines which we then used to ropes to tie the guy up. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with him now, but he's really out of it. Snoring.

I made a fire and now I'm kind of flopped over on the sand, writing. I'm hungry, but it's dark and I don't think I can go find anything to eat. Where's the FFTFMH when I need it?

Stars, that abbreviation is getting annoying. What can I call it now?


	17. Day 24 Morning

**Entry #101**

**Entries Left: --**

_**Time: 0857**_

_Message:_

_ERROR_

_No more entries may be added. Please unlock entry system. _

**Entry #101**

**Entries Left: --**

_**Time: 0858**_

_Message:_

_ERROR_

_No more entries may be added. Please unlock entry system._

**Entry 00**

_**Time: 0905**_

_Message:_

_Your datapad has been unlocked and files have been cleaned. Thank you. _

**Entry #1**

_**Time: 0906**_

Entry 1?!

What the hell?

**Entry #2**

_**Time: 0907**_

Testing… testing… testing…

As;dkfja;slkruq04wao;ivhjk37498ptulikj2345

?

**Entry #3**

_**Time: 0911**_

??

How do I fix this? I wanted to turn the stupid counter _off_ and not have all my entries deleted!

-0-0-0-

**Entry #104**

_**Time: 0924**_

_Message:_

_Your entries have been reclaimed. Thank you. _

**Entry #105**

_**Time: 0930**_

Well, finally! Don't you just hate technology some days?

**Entry #106**

_**Time: 0940**_

Well… this morning is bright and sunny. There are no clouds in the sky. Normally one would think that that's a good thing, but this probably means that I'm going to get sunburnt sometime today. For once I'm glad that I don't have a mirror. I'd look like… well…

I was going to say that I probably look like a Zeltron, but that reminds me of Jyn, and I'm not going there today. No, I am not.

I've started to notice that this datapad is pretty much a diary. Really, it is. And flicking back through all those entries to make sure they were all there (believe me, I was quite mad when this thing went and deleted them all, but thankfully there's a back up memory that saves them all in case you want to retrieve them at some point) – well, I sort of started wondering idly: what would people think if they came here one day and found this datapad? I'd probably be long dead by then, but there'd be this datapad with everything I've ever written on it and I've pretty much chronicled every stinking day I've been here and I don't think that's going to change any time soon since it's grown to be a habit. Writing on this thing, I mean. I certainly didn't plan to chronicles every little adventure I've ever had on this planet, or write about my life and stuff in case this ever fell into Imperial hands and they used it to their advantage –

Speaking of Imperials…

I have a prisoner.

I've never had a prisoner before, but it's true. Kerigan Lysson has a prisoner.

And I'm not sure what I'm going to do with him. Really, this is making me think really hard. I've decided that I don't like having prisoners. I took his blaster away from him so he couldn't shoot me, but now I don't know what to do with him. He's awake now, staring at me and not saying anything.

Well. I could ungag him, I suppose, but he kept making such a racket last night. After falling asleep while trying to get the gun so he could shoot me, he kept waking up. Like he has insomnia or something. I wonder, does he have narcolepsy as well, judging from the way he randomly fell asleep yesterday?

Anyways. I barely got any sleep last night, because _he_ was awake and trying to get himself free from my make-shift ropes. And I say, those vines make some damn good ropes.

But that doesn't change the fact that I don't know what to do with him. I can't shoot him. I'm not a filthy Imperial, but if I let him free, then he'll shoot _me_ and that's not in the plan. I might die here, but I'm not going to die the way I might die on Coruscant or something. I'm not planning on getting shot.

I suppose I cold just throw the stupid blaster away, but it would be a good hunting tool so I won't have to rely on the FTTFMH to bring me rodents every day. Speaking of which, I still haven't seen it. I'm kind of sad that I haven't seen it for a while. Did I scare it off or something?

Back to the Imperial. If I just keep him tied up, he's not going to do me any good cause I have to feed him since he won't be able to feed himself. And I can't let him starve, I might as well just shoot him.

Is this what you call a moral dilemma?

**Entry #105**

_**Time: 1055**_

One hour later.

I still don't know what to do with the guy. I don't even know his name. I just know he's an Imperial and I'd bet my FTTFMH (if I had it right now) that he's one of those TIE pilots my squadron ran into before we got slaughtered.

Now that he's not trying to kill me and that it's light out, I can see him properly. He has red hair. Pretty wild red hair, at that. Looks like he hasn't seen a comb in weeks, but then, neither have I. I'd hate to think what I look like to him – not that it really matters, that is. I don't care what he thinks of me. I'm his captor, and he's not going to have a high opinion of me.

I don't have a high opinion of him either, for that matter. He tried to kill me!

He's a pretty normal human. Of course he'd be human – all Imps are human. Xenophobic scumbags, each and every one of them. He's tanned, like he's been outdoors for days. Lucky Imp. I burned.

I don't think I'd be up to fighting him again. He's looks pretty strong, I don't think I'd stand much of chance. If I hadn't taken him by surprise that night and if he hadn't been tired from _stalking_ me…

**Entry #106**

_**Time: 1130**_

Well, that went well.

I ungagged him.

And I asked him that question I was thinking last night:

"Look, buddy, if you're going to fall asleep on the job, how the hell did you pass all your flying exams at the Academy?"

He answered, but it was pretty… well, let's just say, he has a pretty foul mouth. I gagged him again for that and told him he should learn not to insult people or I'll just leave him gagged forever.

So, here we are, sitting on the beach. He's glaring at me and trying to speak through the gag, but I can't understand a word he's saying. And that's _fine by me._ If all he's going to do this throw swear words at me, then he can stay gagged for all I care.

Now I need to do something about some food. Where's FTTFMH?

I swear that abbreviation is getting annoying. Ugh!


	18. Day 24 Afternoon

DAY TWENTY-FOUR (AFTERNOON)

**Entry #107**

_**Time: 1450**_

One hour ago, FTTFMH came back.

And it brought me another present: rodents! Three of them!

Food!

With Aree's help, I roasted the rodents for food. FTTFMH just sat there and stared at me the entire time making whirring noises. I've decided that it must have had a pretty good time while away, because it's looking kind of fat. I've decided that I'm going to call it "Fatty" because 1) FTTFMH is getting annoying, 2) Sometimes I can't even remember what the hell FTTFMH stands for, 3) Fatty is as good a name as any and besides, the thing doesn't speak Basic so as long as you say it nicely, it won't take it as an insult.

So, I've had my lunch. I'm not starving anymore, but I can almost feel the back of my neck getting redder and redder by the minute. Blasted sun.

Now comes the problem of feeding the prisoner.

I wrapped up some rodent for him in these big leaves that you can pull off of the trees and took it over to him. I sat down and ungagged him and said, "I'm going to feed you and you are going to eat. Otherwise, you're going to starve. Okay?"

He just glared at me and went, "I'd rather rot than get spoon-fed by a Rebel."

And I said, "Fortunately for you, I don't have a spoon. So eat!"

"It looks disgusting."

"Yeah, well, you're out in the wild, mate. Things are disgusting here. If you don't eat rodent, you don't eat at all."

"What about nuts and fruit and berries and stuff like that?"

I have to admit he has a point. I haven't checked into that yet.

Not that I'm going to let him know that under any circumstances.

"Who are you? You look like a Zeltron."

The frakkin' nerve! I stood up at that point and said, "Yeah, well, I'm not a Zeltron, mate, so stitch this!"

I gave him a good slap and kicked sand on his food. One of the benefits of living on a beach. Then I came over here to sulk.

I should have gagged him. He just yelled at me, "By the way, what the hell is your hair colour? It's so dirty, I can't tell."

Stupid git! I have brown hair and it's not so dirty that you can't tell it! Besides, pretty much every hair colour migrates to brown when it gets dirty. Ugh!

**Entry #108**

_**Time: 1510**_

I've had some time to calm down by lying on the beach. Okay, well, twenty minutes, but what the hell. Who cares? I'm sunburnt anyways and I can feel it. No wonder Imp Boy called me a Zeltron.

It's not that I have anything against Zeltrons – I'm not a xenophobe, or whatever it is. I'm not scared in the least of other species. If I was, I wouldn't be a part of the Rebellion. Still, I take slight offence at being called a Zeltron because – and I can't believe I'm finally typing this out – that's exactly what Jyn is.

You heard that right. My boyfriend – my first and only boyfriend – was of a different species than me. With Zeltrons being so biologically close to humans, some say that there's no problem with a human/Zeltron pairing. Well, Daddy dearest certainly found something wrong with it. Jyn being a Zeltron was the only thing unrespectable about him – oh, and the fact that he was a musician and wasn't able to "hold a steady job." As a businessman, Daddy dearest found something just slightly repulsive about that. He's all about work, work, work and credits, credits, credits. Jyn's all about fun and games.

That's partially why I broke up with him.

That and the fact that he's a Zeltron.

Okay, that so totally did NOT come out right.

There's something in Zeltron biology that they can't seem to suppress easily. They can do this thing that makes them extremely sexually attractive to other beings. Jyn was already handsome enough, but when he was doing that thing, he really was irresistible. Good Gods, I really didn't want to break up with him, but I had to. Other girls who went to his gigs also found him irresistibly attractive and I found him one day in a rather uncompromising position with one of his fans.

He apologized, of course, but I'd had enough. We weren't going back. I'd put up with it for long enough and I was ending it.

This was just a month after my eighteenth birthday. I walked out on him and joined the Rebel Alliance.

And now I've ended up here.

I can't help but wonder if Jyn actually misses me or not. He said he loved me, but he couldn't help the biology makeup of his own species.

Liar, liar, liar.

Maybe not.

How should I know? I'm a human!

Whenever I've talked about Jyn, people always seem to assume that I was dating him as rebellion against my xenophobic father (like Aree pointed out some entries back). They don't seem to understand that I actually did love him, and it wasn't just the pheromones (is that spelt right??).

Hmph, this really isn't getting me anywhere. Imp's yelling at me to stop sunbathing and get my sorry little butt doing something. "Useless Rebel" apparently. Well, that's almost a compliment, he's called me things that are much, much worse.

What am I going to do now? Prisoners complicate things so much!


	19. Day 25

**Entry #109**

_**Time: 1305**_

**Special Data Entry**

_**This is an audio entry. To play, click **__**here**__**. To go back, click **__**here**__**.**_

+-+-+-+

_(Sound of someone stepping on leaves. Something heavy is put down.)_

_MAN: I see you've finally gotten some sense knocked into you. _

_GIRL: What sense? I've got plenty of sense. How do you think I've survived for twenty-five frakkin' days on an isolated planet?_

_MAN: That was probably by luck more than anything else. Or… perhaps those rebels do train you well. I suppose you're all savages in the long run, so you're perfectly at home out here in the wilderness._

_GIRL: growls_

_(The sound of something soft hitting someone.)_

_MAN: OUCH! What the hell was that for?_

_GIRL: Lunch. Eat it if you don't want to starve. _

_MAN: It's _yellow.

_GIRL: So?_

_MAN: Bright yellow, I might add. Are you sure it's edible?_

_GIRL: It's fruit! Fine, if you're not going to eat it, I will._

_(Sound of someone ripping something from someone else's grasp.)_

_MAN: No, give it back, I'll eat it. _

_(Silence. Wind blows through the trees, causing rustling of leaves.)_

_MAN: Seriously, give it back. _

_GIRL: No. _

_MAN: Do you want a dead prisoner on your conscious?_

_GIRL: You're not going to die if you don't eat this. I'll get you something else. _

_MAN: Wow. Such dedication to her prisoners. Who knew the rebels were this kind? Though you probably have something sneaky slipped up your sleeve to use later on. Otherwise you would have untied me first._

_GIRL: Hey, at least you can use your arms now so you can eat. _

_MAN: Right. Because that's much comfort when you're attached to a tree trunk. _

_GIRL: What would you do if some crazy Imperial comes barging into your camp and tries to kill YOU?!_

_MAN: I'd give him my name and rank and tell him to identity himself. _

_GIRL: smacking forehead I should have killed you when I first saw you. _

_MAN: What are you mumbling?_

_GIRL: I'm getting some very nasty, homicidal thoughts right now. _

_MAN: suddenly snoring_

_(There is silence). _

_GIRL: What the hell is wrong with this guy?_

_It starts raining._

_GIRL: Stop it, sky! You are NOT allowed to cry on me right now! What? Are you pitying this guy? Is that why you're crying on me? Gaah… pause I must be going insane. _

_(An astromech unit beeps.)_

_GIRL: Gods… I hate this place. _

**Entry #110**

_**Time: 1608**_

I went hunting this morning. Well… whatever classifies as hunting for me right now. I brought back fruit when I found some long, yellow things hanging on a tree. They looked all right. And they certainly taste all right. I have no idea what the Imp was complaining about earlier.

And now it's raining.

Will this horror never end?

What are _you_ beeping about, Aree? I'm trying to write here! Stupid droid never listens to me. Always a distraction, I should have never brought hi

THIS IS THE MOST CONVENIENT WAY TO SPEAK TO YOU. APOLOGIES FOR INTERRUPTIING YOUR FRANTIC TYPING. I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU THAT YOU SHOULD ATTEMPT TO BE KIND TO THE IMPERIAL. GET TO KNOW HIM. YOU WILL NEVER SURVIVE IF YOU HAVE TO CONTINUE TO CARE FOR HIM IN THIS WAY. AND I KNOW YOU HAVE NO DESIRE TO KILL HIM.

BE A FRIEND.

What a stupid droid.

_Friends?_

No. Frakkin'. Way.

Thanks, Aree. That was supremely helpful.


	20. Day 26

**Entry #111**

_**Time: 1402**_

Just came back from another food collecting trip. Or hunting trip, whatever you want to call it. I dumped the stuff on the beach. The Imp is taking a nap. He was asleep while I was away and now I'm back, he's still asleep. I'm not sure if that means he woke up sometime during the time I was away or not, but it doesn't matter. If he's asleep, he can't bother me.

I just noticed that I accidentally hit an audio recording for entry #109. That's just… well… basically, I was so annoyed at the Imp. He and I were talking before; he interrupted me while I was writing an entry since there was nothing better to do. He got my temper right up – I can't even remember what he said now, but whatever it was, it definitely got to me – and then I snapped on him. I threw the datapad and it must have somehow turned on the audio setting when it hit that tree. I'm surprised it didn't break.

_StarSave_ really makes the best datapads in the world.

I flipped back through my entries and was reading some of the older ones from way back after I first crashed. Hard to believe I've been on this planet for practically a month. Anyways, I found this:

_Checklist:_

1. Provisions: ration bars (17), water containers (4)

2. Clean clothes: shirt (1), pants (1)

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

Funny. If I re-wrote it, I would have to axe all of the provisions and the clean clothes. I'm as dirty as a Gamorrean. I have tears in both my shirts and I can't sew them back together again. My pants were fine until I went hiking today to find food. I fell and got a huge big rip in it from a… well, from a plant. There's these plants on this planet, you see, that are big – and by big, I mean HUGE! Like they got too much water or something and just sprouted up. Anyways, big isn't the problem. They're right nasty things to fall into, cause they've got vines and such that have really sharp thorns on them… and their leaves have sharp edges. Just my luck that I tripped and fell into one. I cut my side, you can see the gash it left – as if I got slashed by a Nexu. It got my lower legs as well.

I'm sore and tired now. I'm not hungry. I think I'm going to find a place to curl up in the shade and sleep. There's nothing better to do. I hate to admit it, but Imp guy over there has the right idea. There's nothing else to do but sleep.

I wish I had something to read. Maybe that's why I like typing on this datapad so much.

**Entry #112**

_**Time: 1809**_

Okay… really not feeling well right now. I just woke up. The waves crashing on the sand is giving me a huge headache.

Gods, please let me not get sick.

* * *

**_No entries for Day 27._**

*

**_No entries for Day 28. _**

*

**_No entries for Day 29. _**

*

**_No entries for Day 30. _**


	21. Day 31

**Entry #113**

_**Time: 1517**_

If there ever was a time to renounce your sins before you died, I think I have passed that moment. I am eighteen years old and by the Force I have more things to pay for than the eighty-year-old man living down the street from my father's house. The Empire would label me a murderer. My father would label me a murderer.

Stars, what am I rattling on about? My hands are shaking. I can barely type. The Imp is asleep. He switched Aree off. It's just me, and the sand, and the ocean, and this planet. I've never been philosophical, but there's something about being wrapped up in a make-shift blanket made out of your enemy's shirt and shivering your way through tropical heat and humidity that makes my skin crawl and my brain say, "This is it."

If it wasn't for this need to keep typing – the way I have been doing ever since I crashed on this planet – I would probably be trying to sleep. I'm exhausted, but I can't shut my eyes. I feel nauseous.

Force, please don't let me throw up again.

**Entry #114**

_**Time: 1519**_

There's something to be said about getting sick on a deserted tropical planet and being cared for by your enemy after your traitorous droid

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\\\\\

AN ERROR HAS OCCURED


	22. Day 33

_**No entries for Day 32.**_

*

**Entry #115**

_**Time: 1530**_

_**Try to stay still, if you move too much you'll get sick again. **_

_You're one to talk, Imp, you've been just as sick as me and you have narcolepsy. _

_**I don't have narcolepsy. If anything, YOU'RE the one who got me sick. **_

_Yes you do. Don't deny it, I've seen you fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. You could have stayed away and NOT attacked me. We have an entire planet to ourselves. I'll stay on this side, you go to the other side. _

_**You're a rebel, I don't need a reason to attack you. At the moment, neither of us are going anywhere.**_

_Tropic diseases. You'd be dead because of me. _

_**And you'd be dead if I got want I wanted. **_

_Homicidal maniac. _

_**Psychotic Rebel. **_

_I'm amazed you haven't dropped over asleep yet. _

_**Yeah, well, like I said I DO NOT have narclo**_

PLAY NICELY, YOU TWO.

DO NOT THROW SAND AT ME. YOU ARE WORSE THAN THE GIRL, IMPERIAL.

_**Yeah, well, if I-**_

SAY ANYTHING MORE AGAINST ME AND YOU WILL FIND YOURSELVES WITHOUT FOOD AND WATER FOR THE NEXT WEEK UNTIL YOU EITHER RECOVER OR DIE.

_Stupid droid. _

_**HOMICIDAL droid. **_

_Hey, that's MY droid you're talking about!_

_**Yes, well, you don't like him either. **_

_The POINT, Imp, is that I'M the one who gets to call him names because he's MY droid. _

_**Obsessive-compulsive Rebel. **_

_If you keep that up, I'm going to throw the datapad away. _

_**Nice try, you can barely lift your arm. **_

_Neither can you! If we could, we wouldn't be tied to this tree. _

_**Your droid has issues. **_

_Tell me about it. _

_**At least there's this. I was going to ask you why you have a datapad but cle**_

_It's like the only thing that survived the crash after YOU shot me out of the sky. _

_**HEY, I WENT DOWN BEFORE ANY OF THE REBEL SHIPS WENT DOWN. I DID NOT SHOOT YOU OUT OF THE SKY. **_

_I BET YOU DID!_

_**LIAR.**_

_HOMICIDAL MANIAC. _

_**Stop that. I said I was sorry. **_

_Tell me, how does an Imp pass his flying tests if he has narcolepsy?_

_**FOR THE LAST FRAKKIN' TIME, I DO NOT HAVE NARCLOPESY.**_

_Imperials = In denial with themselves. _

_**Okay. That's it. I'm done. **_

_Good for you! Now leave my datapad al—_

_**Not a chance. It's the only time I get to vocalize my thoughts since you spread your germs to me. **_

_Hey, we both don't have voices. Suck it up. _

_**Are you always like this?**_

_Tell me, am I required to answer that question. _

_**YES.**_

_I AM NOT._

_**Fine. All right. Have your stupid datapad back. **_

_Thank you. _

_Don't snatch it out of my hands!_

_**Then don't show me what you just typed. **_

_Oh, go and fall asleep already. Narcolepsy, I order you to cause this Imp—_

_**Shut it. Stop calling me Imp, you make me sound like I'm one of those tiny demons. **_

_Maybe you are. _

_**Do you have any respect for anyone?!**_

_Hmm… nope. Especially not you. _

_**Because I'm an Imperial soldier?**_

_BECAUSE YOU TRIED TO KILL ME._

_**Haven't I already made up for that? And I would kill you if I had**_

_See what I mean?_

_**We're enemies, Rebel. **_

_So suck it up, Imp. _

_**I'm supposed to kill you. **_

_And I'm NOT allowed to hate you for it? Fine, I'll try to kill you right back. _

_**In case you haven't noticed, I'M the one who made sure you got food into your stomach when you could scarcely move. **_

_Yeah, well, now neither of us can move and our guardian angel is a psychotic droid with what should be classified as a mental disorder. _

_**And we're stuck speaking to each other by typing on a datapad. **_

_Life frakkin sucks. _

_**You have a bad mouth. **_

_Like you're one to talk, Imp. _

_**DON'T CALL ME IMP!**_

_Fine. Don't call me Rebel. _

_**I can come up with something much worse if**_

_Keri. _

_**What?**_

_Keri. Now you. _

_**What?**_

_Are you an idiot?_

_**No, but**_

_Yep, definitely an idiot. _

_**STOP. You can call me Rael. **_

_Name and rank?_

_**No, just name. Keri. **_

_Whatever you want Imp. _

_And you've fallen asleep. Again. Terrific. _

_AREE, YOU UNTIE ME RIGHT NOW OR ELSE I'LL THROW YOU IN THE OCEAN WHEN I GET BETTER!!!_


	23. Day 34

**Entry #116**__

_**Time: 2237**_

You know what I just noticed and now feel totally stupid for not really paying attention to this oh-so-interesting fact before?

This datapad's hours are scheduled to Standard Time.

This planet has hours that are exactly identical to Coruscant!

Bravo me for finally just thinking of that. The sun goes down when it should go down on Coruscant, and the sun comes up at the same time it would on Coruscant.

Isn't that neat.

I'm probably just trying to distract myself right now. It's been an interesting past few days. Actually… _more_ interesting than it really should have been. Basically, everything can be summed up in a few short sentences:

The Imp Guy attacks me.

I capture him and tie him up.

I get severely sick.

Aree – apparently in an action demonstrating his concern for my well-being – unties the prisoner.

The prisoner, out of the nonexistent goodness of his Imperial heart, cares for me since the droid is incapable of doing so – both are completely ignorant of the fact that I _can_ take care of myself even when sick.

Imp falls ill.

We both loose our voices.

Aree, in an attempt to stop us from trying to kill each other by way of sand… okay. It wasn't him. It was me. It was all me. I was throwing sand at him and weakly trying to attack him. My fault.

ANYWAYS, Aree decides to tie us both to a tree.

Now better, we are able to free ourselves.

I shut off that pathetic little droid and then threatened to do the same to Imp Boy.

Imp Boy was quite ready to take me down.

I am feeling quite a lot better now, thank you very much, and so today I got back to the normal routine. Except I had the troublesome thing known as an Imp hanging around. I went to get food; he followed. I went to get water; he followed. I went to clean up and thankfully he didn't follow.

Thankfully.

GODS he's more annoying than Fatty!

I think he still wants to kill me but has decided that either 1) I'm better left alive or 2) I'd kick his butt and kill him if he tried.

I'm going with number 2 right now. It's more true.

Today could not have been more interesting. FIRST Imp Boy has the gall to follow me out to restock our supply of food, since Aree has decided on being useless. Well… he _is_ being useless right now and it's my fault since I turned him off. Fatty has disappeared and I can't find him, so I was stuck going out by myself until IB decided to come.

Stalker.

Well, we didn't come across any Pink Furies, but I did step in a pool of multicoloured algae and then we found a tree with some big, round fruity things with hard shells. So I climbed up the tree – being more useful than IB can ever be – and picked some of them. And then, just for good measure, I threw on at him and hit him on the head. He fell over and into the pond of multicoloured algae.

And was quite seriously knocked out.

So then, on top of bringing the fruit things back to camp, I had to drag _him_ along. I couldn't really leave him lying in the multicoloured algae.

Not really.

I wanted to!

But I have the perfect little soul of an Iego angel.

And I'm on the _good_ side, too. I'm not an Imp. IB is. He would have left me there.

I'm too good for him, that's what.

And then the day progressed. I tried to make a fire and burned my hands. And then the fire got blown out by the wind on the beach, so it was all kind of pointless.

Fatty came back, much to my surprise, near dinner time when I was trying to hack into some of the fruity things and couldn't get the shells open. I guess I could have turned Aree back on, but I can't stand ONE more stupid, philosophical thing from that droid.

He. Tied. Me. To. A. Tree.

_WITH THE ENEMY._

I think the point is rather clear.

So, anyways, Fatty came back, with a bunch of rodents again, so we tried to get the fire started again. IB got it started.

Arrogant jerk.

So he showed me how to properly cook a rodent on a stick. It doesn't work… okay, it _does_, but I like my way better. Even if it kind of is less effective than his.

Stupid.

Fatty looks quite a bit bigger than usually and all the more… well… _fat. _

I think he's been either growing up or just eating too much. His wings whir quite a bit more now.

Anyways, something I said sparked an argument between us and now I'm sitting in a tree trying to avoid that Imperial pesk. Except I can't get to sleep since last time I slept in a tree, I fell out and I could have broken something.

I don't want to break something this time. Really. I just got better from being sick. That wasn't fun.


	24. Day 37

**Entry #117**__

_**Time: 0922**_

Happy day 37, dear datapad. I know it's day 37 because I am very, very good at keeping track of time. I don't have to write an entry every single day to help me keep track. Yes, that's right, I do not.

I'm thinking I should write a book about my "adventures." (Take the world _adventure_ very lightly there, please). After all, hasn't there been several holodramas made about being stuck on isolated planets with nothing but a hydrospanner and a comb to help the unfortunate person survive? I'm sure there has.

Maybe when I finally get off this place, I can turn my story in for profit and they can make a holodrama out of it! And then I'd make a lot of credits and _what_ a punch in the gut it will be for my dear old daddy because he always said I would never come to be anything worthwhile. Yay, go me! It sounds like a plan.

I hate getting up really early, but this is the sort of thing that happens when you're living outside. And on a beach, no less. And the annoying IB is only several feet away from you and is still fast asleep. This is the only quiet time I get. The past couple of days have been downright annoying. I mean, what _do_ they teach in the Imp academies? Honestly, I thought they would teach them how to survive, but poor Imp Boy has narcolepsy really bad and can't seem to do anything for himself. I'm kind of tempted not to share any of the food that I got (okay… not so much me, but the food that Fatty got for me since he's such a dear; did I mention that he's still looking awfully fat?) with him and see how _he_ fares.

I really should stop gloating… yeah, that would be a good idea. I kind of… had an accident this morning. Sort of, but it wasn't my fault! I decided that I was going to go swimming when I woke up this morning an hour and a half ago. IB sleeps in until like noon all the time, so I knew I wasn't going to bother him and that he wasn't going to bother me. To cut the story short (since I do have a very long, sore and kind of painful scratch along one finger from said accident this morning), him not bothering me means that I can find a secluded spot to swim… elsewhere… without _him _seeing _me._ Which was entirely the point since I _hate_ putting on wet clothes after going swimming and then having to dry off while wearing said wet clothes—

Okay, that just sounds uber ridiculous. But the point still stands. It should be all perfectly clear, you know. No sense on prolonging the argument—

ANYWAYS. So I go swimming. It wasn't supposed to be a very long swim, but it turned into a longer swim than planned because I found something shiny on the sand at the bottom and spent a while trying to fish it out. As soon as I do pick up said shiny thing, a gigantuous _fish_ appears completely out of nowhere and tries to attack me. Kind of. But it was black and nasty-looking. Kind of like the exact opposite of pink furies, except that it has the exact same attitude. So the furyfied fish is chasing me and my very vocal protests at the audacity of being chased by a fish (of all things) wakes up Imp Boy. And then I'm stuck between the shore where IB is standing, waving his arms at me and shouting Imperial nonsense, and a fish that is trying pretty hard to eat my ankle.

Yeah. Not the best way to start a day.

So, while my ankle is being inspected for eating by the furyfied fish, I pick a rock up off of the sand and throw it at Imp Boy, while remaining firmly in the water.

I have pretty good aim, but there's no way I could really throw a rock as far as it needed to go. But at least the Imp got the point. Well… the rock + me telling him point-blank that I would rather be eaten by the fish than get out of the water. He gets the point shortly after that, but while he's leaving, something scratches the length of my arm. By the time I get out of the water, it's bleeding pretty bad and by the time I get dressed, I get blood over a good portion of my clothes.

Oh well. It adds a bit of decorative flair.

I think this planet is affecting me.

On second thought, I am really, really glad there are no psychologists here.

Here's a brighter thought: at the end of everything, though I am no longer swimming in the sea until we get rid of all of those furyfied fish (honestly, is everything on this planet except for Fatty trying to kill me?), I still have the shiny thing I picked up. Looks like some kind of keycard. Swipe-access to something or other. Don't really know what.

I'll show it to Aree later, see what he makes of it.


	25. Day 40

**Entry #118**

_**Time: 1817**_

I hate routines. Honestly, what's the point of a routine? All it does is succeed in getting you into a pointless, mindless, drivel-ish cycle of repetitiveness that never stops. I happen to find myself in a routine. The routine goes like this:

1) Wake up

2) Go swimming

3) Eat breakfast

4) Go get food

5) Eat lunch

6) Go get more food

7) Explore a bit

8) Go swimming again

9) Eat dinner

10) Go to sleep

With a fair amount of annoying IB inbetween. And being scolded by Aree. Seriously, who knew that an astromech droid had so many mean, untrue things to say? Okay… that's a lie, most of them are true in some way, but I'm happily content in IGNORING the matter entirely without some little pipsqueak droid shoving it in my face all the time.

The routine really stinks. Everywhere I go, I seem to have some repetitive pattern that I follow. What happened to living life on the edge? You would think that you couldn't get more on the edge than being trapped on some uninhabited SLIMEBALL with almost zero chance of rescue, but no. Here, if you're going to do anything at all, you've got to survive and to survive you've got to eat, so you spend most of your time getting food. I think I have successfully regressed to how the human race was millions and millions of years ago. Hurrah! Success for me.

It's all rather morbidly amusing. Your perspective can become so enlightened when you're trapped on a planet and have nothing to do but wait around to either a) be rescued (which is unlikely) or b) die from option one (you kill yourself), option two (boredom), three (you eat something that really, really shouldn't be digested), or three (a homicidal Imperial soldier shoots you). See what I mean by morbid? Really, what's the point of everything? Before you ask, no I am NOT becoming suicidal; I'm just attempting to be logical. Humans are really silly sometimes. We're the largest race in existence, we sit on the throne of the Galaxy, reigning it down on all the other species (actually, that's an apt description of our Emperor, but it applies to others as well) and yet we really are the most illogical, paradoxical beings ever to come into existence. Some of us hate life, yet we continue to cling on to it. We're not usually very good at defending ourselves unless we're armed with either a gun or a pointed stick, yet we have the biggest survival instinct ever.

I have come to the conclusion that the above is not making any sense at all and I'm quite surprised that my spelling and vocabulary haven't completely flown out of my head yet. Ho hum.

Dear Diary: I'm bored.


	26. Day 41

**Entry #119**

_**Time: 1405**_

They say sloth is one of the seven deadly sins. If that's true, then I know someone who's going to hell. Of course, he'll be there anyways for charges such as wrath and pride and the occasionally hunting down of innocent rebels, but that's not the point. He could at least _try._ I'm starting to get to the point where I don't know what to do anymore. On one hand, I feel like I should just starve him, but on the other hands I'll feel bad for that. Not guilty, just kind of bad. Well, whatever. He's still another human being and we're not fighting at the moment, so I don't have any reason to starve him to death right now.

OH, SCREW IT!

We're bloody enemies! He's with the Empire, I'm with the Alliance. If it were any other situation than this, he would be trying to kill me and I would be trying to kill him. For all I know, he's the one who shot me out of the sky in the first place. I should kill him. So what's stopping me? Now's not the time to take into account his humanity. It's ridiculous to think that I should be wavering on this topic – I've shot people down before and the effect of that has killed them. I'm a solider. He's a soldier. We're on opposite sides. What's the problem?

I have a conscience, that's what. I wonder if he does. Probably not, the way he's lying there in the sun. This is unbelievably pointless. I do all the work around here. Wow, and by saying that and actually reading it, I just put myself into the position of "house-wife."

Ugh!!!

Why do I think up such random stuff all the time? That totally is not fair. At all.

**Entry #120**

_**Time: 1435**_

I went to talk to Imp Boy again. And now I feel bad. He's sick… or ill… or something. And he still keeps falling asleep at random times. I don't get him. His system is entirely screwed up, and I don't know what to do, even though I feel like I should help him out. There goes my conscience again. Even though he tried to kill me, I feel like I should do something. My guess is that he ate something or came into contact with something that wasn't all that good for him right after he crashed here. Maybe there's a cure around here somewhere.

**Entry #121**

_**Time: 1509**_

Fatty isn't much better than Imp Boy. He's just lying around in the sun, _sun-tanning._ If you can believe it, his skin is changing colour. The orange is going deeper orange and the yellow is going gold. His wings having changed or anything.

He's still looking really fat.

Help! I'm surrounded by slothful people!

**Entry #122**

_**Time: 1515**_

SO WHY DON'T YOU GO DO SOMETHING YOURSELF?

**Entry #123**

_**Time: 1515**_

Don't start that again, Aree.

**Entry #124**

_**Time: 1516**_

OF COURSE NOT, THAT WOULD BE ENTIRELY REDUNDANT TO DO SO. I WAS MERELY COMMENTING ON THE FACT THAT YOU HAVEN'T DONE MUCH TODAY YOURSELF, SO I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE COMPLAINING ABOUT. HOW ABOUT YOU GO CLIMB A TREE AGAIN, YOU'RE RUNNING LOW ON FOOD SUPPLIES.

**Entry #125**

_**Time: 1517**_

No, I can think of several different things to do that are better time wasters.

**Entry #126**

_**Time: 1518**_

NOW WHO'S BEING SLOTHFUL?

**Entry #127**

_**Time: 1519**_

Oh, SHUT UP!!!

**Entry #128**

_**Time: 1520**_

IN THE WORDS MOST COMMONLY SAID BY FEMALE HUMANS, "MAKE ME."

**Entry #129**

_**Time: 1527**_

For the record, I did make him. Aree's been turned off. Good thing too, the droid was beginning to get on my nerves.

**Entry #130**

_**Time: 2059**_

With nothing else to do, Fatty slinking off somewhere, and Imp Boy fast asleep, I will say this.

I regret my decision to turn Aree off.

Honestly, what is this planet doing to me? You know it's bad when your best friend is a toss-up between a droid and a datapad. At least I still have you, dear datapad.

Okay, yep. Finally going insane. Ho hum. How boring.


	27. Day 42

**Entry #131**

_**Time: 1201**_

Well, this has been an interesting event. Imp Boy has finally decided to do something with his life. Hopefully it doesn't involve an intricate plan to kill me. Ho hum. Actually, I think some part of me might just be wishing for that, because then at least it wouldn't be quite as boring.

I wonder how many times someone can say "ho hum" in a day? Maybe I'll try it sometime soon.

Anyways, about an hour ago or so, Imp Boy went into the jungle. He didn't say where he was going or what he was doing – or if he was even coming back. I took the advantage of his missing presence to go swimming again. This time nothing bizarre happened. It was just a normal swim and it was nice to get my hair washed, even without the presence of soap.

For some reason, I am reminded of the time Janson played on his pranks and stole all of the soap.

Can I say that I actually miss the guy's jokes? In reflection, they were pretty funny. There's no funny people here. There's only Aree and Imp Boy, and one is just plain annoying and the other wants to kill me. I think. Then again, maybe he doesn't want to kill me, since he's had plenty of chances. Or maybe he thinks that he can't try, because he knows Aree will get him if anything happens to me.

What an endearing little servant!

I should probably delete that comment. Or, maybe not. I can't wait to see Aree's reaction.

**Entry #132**

_**Time: 1205**_

Blast. I threw the datapad at Aree and he squeaked at me.

The droid SQUEAKED.

Wonder what's going on with that, or maybe my hearing is just being affected. Stars, that's a depressing thought.

**Entry #133**

_**Time: 1409**_

Imp Boy has returned – bearing long pieces of wood that are clearly branches and other such brush. I thought he was going to bring food, but no! No food. Doesn't he understand that he has to go help with the food at some point? I'm not doing it all for him!

I went to ask him what the hell he was doing.

"Making a boat."

"What the hell do you want a boat for?"

"I'm going up the river."

"WHY?!"

"I'm getting off the beach and trying to find something else."

"Like what?"

And then he has the audacity to pull something out of his pocket that I never thought he would have. He had the keycard I found the day I got attacked by the furified fish.

"What are you doing with that?"

I was pretty mad. I mean, I didn't _give_ him the card, so obviously he went through my stuff at one of the rare moments when I was asleep and he was awake. I am really creeped out by that. Uggghhhhh.

I kind of flipped out after that. There was lots of yelling and screaming and shouting and stamping my foot in the sand, which did not work because then the sand that got kicked up got blown in my face by the wind. Imp Boy was wondering what all the fuss was about, it was just a keycard.

"The point is, flyboy, you DO NOT GO THROUGH MY THINGS!"

I can't help wondering whether or not he has read all my entries on this datapad. Knowing him, he probably has, stupid Imperial. So, I put password protection on it. Now he can't write on it without knowing the password. HA HA! Maybe Aree can't, either, but knowing him he can probably crack the password.

Anyways, Imp Boy is the most insufferable human being I have ever encountered.

GAH!


	28. Day 43

**Entry #134**

_**Time: 1108**_

Imp Boy has set up a work station by the river. Early this morning I went about my usual business – getting food and such – and then sat down under the shade of a tree (I never stopped being sunburnt, you know; this much exposure without protection is not going to be good for my skin, but there's not much I can do about it except keep to the shade as much as possible) to watch him work. He's been attempting to make his boat by lashing thick branches together with vines. He barely took any notice of me. Perhaps he just doesn't get the idea of what folded arms and a scowling brow could possibly mean. On the occasion when he _did_ glance at me, it was only to give me a slightly troubled, yet annoyed, look.

I've been coming to the conclusion for a while now that he doesn't know what to make of me. It's a strange thing, 'because I really don't know what to make of him anymore. He's stopped trying to kill me (well, no complaints there). He's stopped trying to argue with me. He's stopped trying to have anything to do with me. I wouldn't care. I shouldn't care.

Somehow I do.

He's an Imperial. I'm a Rebel. We're opposites and would be better off without each other.

So why is it that I don't want him to leave… exactly? Why is it that I miss the arguments that never go anywhere? Why do I miss yelling at him?

He's an Imperial, Kerigan. Get a grip.

I thought I would never admit this to myself, but I think – I really do _think_ – that I'm lonely. I miss other sentient beings. Sure, Aree can provide some kind of conversation now and again and Fatty is here, but they're not really people. One's an artificial intelligence and the other's an animal. I miss real people and Imp Boy is a person. If he leaves, I'm going to be even lonelier.

Hell, I even don't mind talking to him at all.

Great. So, this is what isolation from the greater Galaxy does to you.

**Entry #135**

_**Time: 1310**_

Imp Boy came and asked me politely for some food. Despite what I said earlier, I was surly as ever when I gave him my response.

"Go get your own food, Imp."

He just stood there and rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Keri," he said. "Please?"

"Go get your own food! This lot's mine."

"Can't you find it somewhere in your stone heart to help out a starving man?" he retorted.

I scowled. "Instead of building a raft – 'cause that's no boat you got there, flyboy – why don't you spend your time doing something useful for yourself, like catching your _own_ food. It's everyone for themselves out here."

He stood still for a moment. "And you think you have survival instincts?"

He didn't say it scornfully. In fact, there was nothing in his expression at all that said sarcasm of cynicism. There was nothing to indicate that he was making fun of me, or criticizing me for my statement. There were just the words.

"I DO have survival instincts!" I shouted anyways, leaping to my feet.

"Then why don't you drop your guard and _trust_ me?" he said. "It doesn't matter if we're from opposite factions. It doesn't matter if we consider ourselves enemies. Can't you see that neither of us is going to get through this if we don't work together? You can sit there under your tree every day for the rest of your life, living off of rats and birds' eggs and typing into that silly little datapad if you want. I don't want to do that. You haven't done anything with that keycard—"

"—which you shouldn't have taken from me!" I growled.

"That doesn't matter!" he shouted. "Don't you _listen_ to anyone but yourself? I was taking the liberty of finding some way of getting us out of here."

"I was _going_ to look at that keycard," I said.

"Of course you were," he snapped.

"You had no right to go through my things!"

"Maybe not, but I'm trying to help you out here!"

_Him_ help _me?_

"No, you're not, Imp Boy," I said flatly, turning away. It was stupid, but it was an automatic reaction. There's some deep-seated hatred from Imperials ingrained in my blood. My head telling me that the smart thing to do would be to place some trust in this guy, in this _Imperial_ because if we worked together, we might just be able to survive on this planet and find a way off, but the rest of me was having none of it.

Automatic repulsion. Automatic reaction.

"All right then," he said quietly. He walked back to his impromptu boat that is shaping up a lot to be more like a raft than a boat. Before he got there, he turned his head and called back to me, "You know, my name is _Rael._ Not Imp Boy."

I folded my arms tighter across my chest. "Whatever you say, _Imp Boy,"_ I hissed, scowling at him. I briefly thought about shortening his unwanted nickname even further and calling him IB aloud. Or would that be "Ib"?

The rudeness was uncalled for, but I can't seem to make myself stop. It's too easy to be mean. It's too natural to be mean.

Why?!

**Entry #136**

_**Time: 1359**_

Imp Boy has had a bit of an accident. I mentioned earlier how he's trying to build his raft/boat by lashing branches together with vines. He finished one part and was testing it in the river. It wasn't strong enough, even with nothing on it. It fell apart within a few moments of being buffeted around by the current of the river. Ib was already waist-deep in the water and he dove after it. He's a pretty strong swimmer, let me tell you that, as he managed to rescue the vines. He had to let the branches be swept out to sea, though – there was no chance of salvaging them after they got completely waterlogged.

He's back on shore now and is contemplating finding a different kind of wood and trying a different knot. With a curt nod in my direction, he's notifying me right now that he's going to go into the jungle to try to find a different kind of wood to use. I don't say anything. I'm sitting here under my preferred tree, in the shade, typing vigilantly into this silly little datapad.

I'm angry at him.

I don't know why, but I am significantly annoyed now. I've been contemplating turning Aree back on, but I have a feeling that the droid will only make things worse.

I hate to say it, but I miss Jyn. Even after what he did, I miss him. Stupid Zeltrons and their pheromones. Stupid, stupid, stupid. If I hadn't gotten so angry, hadn't gotten into my head that the only reason that I was attracted to him in the first place was because of those idiotic pheromones drawing me in, if I didn't have control over my own hormones, none of this would have happened. None of it at all. I wouldn't be sitting here, under a tree on a forgotten planet with only an Imperial, a droid and a big, fat humming creature for company.

**Entry #137**

_**Time: 1607**_

Ib's not back yet. I wonder if he's lost.

Thinking about boys is making me irritated today.

**Entry #138**__

_**Time: 1709**_

Well, that was totally uncalled for. And now I feel like an idiot.

No, this has nothing to do with Imp Boy. Poor old Ibby still hasn't returned. He has a surprise waiting for him when he does, though.

Several surprises, courtesy of Fatty.

The sun has been brutal for most of today. Fatty did nothing, as was his characteristic for the past several days… or weeks. I forget now. I've mentioned how he has been getting increasingly fatter. Today was even more noticeable. I don't know anything about his species, so I've been trying not to be too, too worried.

Well, just about half an hour ago, I found out that Fatty is _not_ a he. Rather, Fatty is a _she._ And she was pregnant. I was lying under my tree, enjoying something of a half-nap (the state you find yourself in when you're not really asleep, but not fully awake, either) when I heard a noise. A very funny noise.

I got up and looked along the beach – and all of a sudden, I see Fatty, covered in some kind of greenish-yellow slime, and seven very pink, but very slimy, creatures that were evidently tiny versions of Fatty hopping and humming around him. Her.

They're kind of cute. Actually, they are adorable. I tried to get close to see better, but Fatty growled at me and bared her fangs. I guess she reserves the right of being overprotective of her young, but I've never seen her this feral before.

The Fatlings don't seem to mind me. In fact, while I was sitting a safe distance away, one of them tried to get closer to me. I can't tell if it's a he or a she, but the baby Fatty practically grinned at me and then hummed contentedly. Or, at least, he/she made a sound that I _think_ was a content sound.

I think I am going to amuse myself by thinking up names for them.


	29. Day 44

**Entry #139**

_**Time: 1909**_

Well, today has been a rather bizarre episode.

Last night, while Fatty's kids were becoming very attached to me (they are too cute, but Fatty seems to be very concerned about it! She keeps snarling at me… considering that she has sizable fangs – well, as sizable as you can get in a small reptilian bird thing, I think I should be a bit worried), Imp Boy hadn't shown up. At all. I wasn't sure whether I should be worried about this mysterious disappearance or not. As far as I knew, he was on the hunt for more river-worthy wood to make his raft-boat. I did kind of toy with the idea of going to look for him, but I decided against it since it was getting dark and there was no way I'd be able to find him in the jungle all by myself with no light.

If worse came to worse and he didn't show up by next morning, I would have to go out and look for him.

I had a dream when I was trying to fall asleep on the beach and I was in that not-quite-asleep but not-quite-awake state where dreams seem to proliferate wildly. I dreamed that I didn't go out and look for him, and then he never showed up and had actually died somewhere by falling into one of those stagnant pools filled with multi-coloured algae and drowning. And then I laughed, like one of those stereotypical villains who say "Mwhahaha!" to show that they are just _that_ evil. And then I couldn't stop laughing and somehow turned into the Emperor (who might just qualify as one of those stereotypical villains) and then I woke up because it got really strange and bizarre and I can't remember half of it anymore.

Jyn would probably say jokingly say that something wasn't wired right in my brain when I have a dream like that if I ever told him about that dream. He used to say all sorts of things like that to get me to smile. Joker. He never really seriously meant any harm by it, from the way that he said it.

Stupid joker.

_Really_ stupid joker, I seriously don't know why I thought he was so funny.

ANYWAYS. So, after that dream, I was getting all anxious for no apparent reason about Rael.

I went to Aree.

He bleeped at me, probably throwing every single astromech swearword ever created at me, along with ones that he just invented. Sometimes I have to wonder about the people who make astromechs. They all seem to have such attitudes programmed into them; I have never met an astromech who was actually _non-_attitude-y. Or perhaps these things just develop over time if you don't wipe their memories. It must be a flaw in their design.

Have I ever mentioned that some part of me happens to like flaws in designs? They make things more interesting.

This DOES NOT mean that I'm not still annoyed at my droid.

I tried to explain things to him and convince him to go look for Imp Boy, but he didn't seem to get it that he had lights and I didn't and that I needed to sleep whereas he, being electronic, doesn't need sleep. Stupid droid. Sometimes I think he just pretends not to understand me to get on my nerves.

So, I didn't really get anywhere at all with the whole Aree-looking-for-Imp Boy thing, so I went back to sleep and thankfully didn't have anymore strange dreams (as far as I can remember).

Next morning I woke up with all of Fatty's brood practically clinging to my arms and legs. Fatty was sitting on the sand a few feet away, crouched low and growling at me. She really didn't look happy. I tried to disperse the Fatlings, but some of them didn't want to let go. It took a while to convince them that Fatty was better than me. Once I nudged them all in their mother's direction, Fatty finally stopped looking so angrily at me. The Fatlings are cute, but they sure can't seem to tell who mommy is supposed to be.

This is where things got interesting.

Of course, that depends on your definition of "interesting."

Ibby came back, and he didn't have any wood with him.

He looked probably worse than I did when I first came out of the jungle and found the beach. Let's say he was covered from head to toe with mud (probably the result of either a) falling out of trees or b) falling down in general) and he was running, with his arms over his head. At first I couldn't see why, but then I got.

Pink Furies.

Not one, but _two. _

This guy was giving me a run for my money.

He was shouting at me to get them off of him. Those birds are very insistent on pecking you to death when you decide to invade their nests and eat the eggs containing their children because you're hungry. I don't think they've ever heard of a food chain, though of course perhaps they're _supposed_ to be at the top of the food chain and we humans are just invading it and they haven't realized it yet. Or something.

The problem with Pink Furies is that they are very difficult to get rid of. They're large. They're pink. They're vicious. I have NO idea where my blaster went, nor if it is still working. I have no idea where Rael's blaster went or if it was still working.

I was trying to figure out how to get rid of the Pink Furies, but I wasn't coming up with much. I grabbed two sticks from the pile of wood saved for fires and tossed one at Ibby.

It's kind of pathetic. Two humans with something of an intelligence (I hope) against two brightly coloured pink birds of prey. Who should win?

We were losing pretty badly. It was ridiculous.

Well, not quite. It got _more_ ridiculous.

The Fatlings were curious about these huge, pink monsters they'd never seen before. They were creeping up on us to get a better view, and then one of the Pink Furies decided that attacking us was nowhere near as interesting as trying to get some food, so it went after the Fatlings. They scattered. Fatty launched herself into the air (which was interesting, because I've never really seen her fly, even though she has wings and I've always assumed that she could fly) and flew right into the path of the Pink Furies. The problem is, she's small compared to them and the one attacking the Fatlings easily evaded her. She was nothing more than an annoyance to the bird.

Then it made off with one of the Fatlings.

I chased down the Fury and tried to whack it with my stick, but I wasn't getting very far because it, well, it could fly and I was securely grounded on the beach. Fatty was still trying desperately to make it let go of the Fatling. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ibby not doing very well with the other Fury.

By all miracles, the thing that happened next probably shouldn't have occurred. But somehow it did.

I jumped. I hit the Pink Fury on the head.

I had a concussed, possibly dead, pink bird of prey at my feet, one very happy Fatty and one saved Fatling crawling across the sand away from its attacker.

Just to make sure that the bird was dead, I had Aree deal with it.

One down… and one not left to go. Having seen the other bird drop, the Fury attacking Imp Boy quickly left screeching into the forest.

I desperately hope that it won't be back… but you never know. It could be out there, gathering reinforcements.

I went over to Rael to ask him if he was all right. He didn't really look it, since the bird had scratched him pretty badly, but he was putting on an air that everything _was_ all right.

"What were those things?" he asked me.

"Pink Furies."

"Excuse me?"

"Their name is self-explanatory."

"Huh… no kidding. You seem to have a thing for self-explanatory names." He winced and sat down.

"Let me look at those for you," I offered.

"I can deal with it myself, Keri," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, at least get yourself cleaned up. It looks to me like you've fallen out of one too many trees."

He gave me a strange look and then burst out laughing.

"What?"

"Never mind."

I get the feeling that he actually _has_ fallen out of one too many trees.

I made up some impromptu bandages while he tried to get the mud off. Then I did my best to bandage him up. Health care isn't really the best thing when you're stranded on a planet like this, but I tried. He asked me about Pink Furies while I worked and I told him very firmly—

"Never, _ever_ find a birds' nest and take the eggs out and eat them. The Pink Furies will never forgive you."

"I take it you've been attacked before," he said.

"Yes," I told him. "It was not a pleasant experience."

"OW!"

I had tied the bandage a little too tight, a little too quickly.

"Oops," I said. I did try to sound apologetic.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're still out to get me?" he sighed.

"Why do I get the feeling that we're _never_ going to get along?" I snapped back and walked away, leaving him by himself sitting next to the river.

Oi.

We had Pink Fury to eat. Aree's a pretty good cook, for an astromech with human supervision. The thing about being stranded with only one person for company is that no matter how rude you are to them, you still talk to them even without having to say that you're sorry.

"When did this happen?" he asked, pointing at Fatty and the Fatlings.

"Yesterday evening," I said.

"They're… kind of cute."

"They are SO cute! Not kind of cute!"

"Sure, whatever you say."

"They're Fatlings. Of course they're cute."

"Fatlings?" He looked absolutely weirded-out.

"Yeah, well, I don't know what their species is. Fatty was… well, fat, so I started calling her Fatty. I didn't know she was pregnant. Actually, I thought she was a he. That kind of turned around on me. Fatty's kids are therefore Fatlings because I don't know what else to call them."

"What about giving them names?"

"Now THAT I have thought of!" I was a bit indignant.

"So, why haven't you?" he asked.

"I haven't had time to think yet!"

"I imagine the ones that are orange and yellow with pink wings are female, like their mother," he said casually. "And the red and turquoise ones are male."

"I don't really like the green wings on them. Clearly this planet has colour-coordination problems."

He snorted. "But you still think they're cute."

"Of course! They're adorable!"

"Well, then, why don't we give them a few names?"

"We?!"

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Aree was beeping loudly a few feet away. I glared at him and silently told him to shut up. Aree bleeped what could have been an electronic sigh.

The Fatlings have become even more attached to me after fending off a Pink Fury attack. Fatty is happy with me. There's no more snarling or growling when she thinks I'm getting to close to the kids. I suppose I am going to have to name them soon, I keep getting them mixed up. The one who was attacked by the Pink Fury is a bit different. He (I think it's a he, since if Imp Boy is right about the colour coordination, then he would be a he) will probably end up with a scar along his side.

I need to put some thought into names.

**Entry #140**

_**Time: 1912**_

"So, what about the wood for your raft?" I just asked Ibby.

"I couldn't find anything new or different, so I have to keep searching. I got hungry and that's when the Pink Furies attacked me."

"Oh. Sounds like a tale of great courage."

"You don't have to be so patronizing."

"OI!"

I think most of our discussions usually end up with this. Oh well.

"You know what," I said without really thinking about it. "I'll come help you look tomorrow."

"What?"

"Yeah. I'm coming."

"What?!"

And that's that. Tomorrow should be interesting.


	30. Day 45

**Entry #141**

_**Time: 2058**_

I was right in thinking that "tomorrow should be interesting." I'm not sure if this day falls under the "Worst Day in the History of Worst Days" category, the "Most Crazily Indefinable Day of Days" category or just the plain, old "Huh?" category.

Or maybe it's all three.

So, yesterday evening I randomly offered to help Ibby find the wood to make his precious raft. We left early this morning to brave the jungle, leaving Aree in charge of Fatty and her kids. Or Fatty and her kids in charge of Aree, whichever one you prefer to think of it as. It's kind of hard to decide. Some of the Fatlings have decided to become quite curious about Aree. It's not like they know what a droid is, anyways. First they decided that Aree might be a good thing to eat, but they quickly discovered that eating metal is not such a good thing and is pretty unpractical. Can't say that Aree was too pleased with half a dozen Fatlings trying to nibble him for breakfast.

There was an droid-ish squeaking episode, in which Aree managed to persuade all of the Fatlings that eating him was _not_ a good idea, and then the cute little things decided that snuggling up to him was the next best thing. Perhaps they think he's a living, breathing sentient being, what with the racket he was making. I swear I almost saw Fatty roll her eyes – if that's possible for her species. At least, that's what it seemed like, without a doubt. She didn't seem to have a problem with the amount of Aree-love passing through her little brood, so Imp Boy and I left the Fatlings and Aree to their own devices.

Heading off into the jungle with a guy who once tried to kill me might not have been the best idea ever, and it was highly awkward, I might add. What kind of topics of conversations do you have with a guy who has completely different viewpoints from you, is part of an organization trying to take you and your friends out, might have been responsible for shooting you down in the first place (don't think I haven't forgotten the reason why I'm trapped here!), was once kept prisoner by you… yadda yadda yadda. Kind of confusing. I don't think Ibby could think of anything either, to be honest. We were pretty quiet as we searched the jungle for the right kind of wood that would make the best raft.

"Maybe there isn't any," he said randomly.

"Maybe there isn't any what?" I asked while we attempted to cut our way through a bunch of vines overgrowing the path. One of them was trying to strangle me at that point – or, at least, that's what it felt like. What I'd give to have Luke Skywalker's lightsaber! It'd be pretty handy in a place like this.

Ibby came over and began untangling me.

"Wood, what else?" he snapped.

"We're in a _jungle,"_ I retorted. "There's lots of wood."

"Good enough to build a raft?"

"Oh, _leave it alone,"_ I said, pushing him away and trying to untangle myself the rest of the way. It didn't work, as the vines snapped back into place, leaving me trapped there with thick, green coils of vegetation wrapped around my wrists, strapping my arms to my body.

"Fine!" he shouted, stalking off deeper into the jungle.

He left me standing there, probably looking pretty stupid as I tried to kick my way free of the vines, but they just wouldn't let me go. I remember thinking, _Well, what a _wonderful _companion to have on a walk in the jungle. Sooo remarkably helpful. _

So there I was, permanently stuck, trapped between two trees, glaring at the vines keeping me trapped there. It didn't take me too long before I realized that the vines were glaring _back._

Just my luck. Why do _I_ have to be the one who gets into these situations? It was worse than that time when Wes Janson and I and a few of the other guys from the Rogue Squadron got stuck on Yavin IV for a weekend and he decided to play a nasty prank on me that ended up with both of us stuck thirty-five feet in the air with native creatures crawling all over us.

The vines weren't actually vines and the Vine Creature wasn't too pleased with me trying to wiggle my way out of becoming its next meal. Next thing I knew, I was being carted up into the air.

Well, since I was stuck, there wasn't much else for me to do other than shout.

"Imp Boy!"

No answer. Go figure.

"HEY! COME BACK!"

No answer again.

"RAEL! I NEED A LITTLE HELP HERE!"

I wasn't sure what was going on. Perhaps he could hear me and was deciding not to respond out of spite (though, considering how our relationship had gone so far, the rational part of me thinks that he was well within his rights to ignore me). Or perhaps he was too far away to hear me. I kept trying, though, otherwise I was going to quickly become the Vine Creature's food and that would be the end of the Rebel Alliance's outpost on _this_ planet.

"RAEL! I SERIOULSY NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!"

**Entry #142**

_**Time: 2109**_

Well, I think I just wrote my first-ever cliff-hanger. Maybe I'll be a top-rate writer if this carries on… not that I was ever planning to, of course.

See that right there? That was sarcasm. Yes?

Har har har.

Rael just came over to badger me about what I was writing on here. I didn't really want to show him. Then that bite of his starting wetting through the bandage he put on (seriously, he's completely useless when it comes to bandages – that's the twelfth time today since this morning when he got the bite that the bandage has had to be changed – when is he honestly going to accept that I'm better at emergency first aid than he is? Stupid idiot) and the stuff was getting all over the place. Not to mention he looked like he was going to pass out. So, I stuffed the datapad away and changed the bandage. He kept complaining that I was tying it too tight, but whatever. I think he was more annoyed that I had torn up another patch of his shirt to make the bandage in the first place.

Fatty and her brood were buzzing all around us, too. The Fatlings were extremely interested in Rael's battle wound. I think he's starting to get annoyed at them.

Or, at least, he would be, except I think he just passed out.

**Entry #143**

_**Time: 2112**_

Okay, now that I know Imp Boy is not going to die immediately on me right here and right now, I can get back to writing about this morning's Hunt for the Raft Wood.

Okay, so the Vine Creature was going to eat me. I didn't really feel like becoming VCF (Vine Creature Food) at that particular moment. It is very difficult to dodge a creature trying to eat you when it's got you tied between two trees. Next thing I know, Imp Boy is pelting back through the jungle, sees me almost being eaten by the VC and then gallantly comes to my rescue.

Sort of.

It was more like he came running towards me, no weapons of any kind, and the VC decided that Rael was much more tasty-looking than me. It uncoiled itself and let me go – except it had brought me a couple of feet up off of the ground by now, so when it let go, it dropped me and I promptly got stuck in the mud.

So, there's me, trying to dig myself out of the mud I'm stuck in, and there's Rael, dashing for it now that the VC has decided that it would rather eat him than me. And off they went, Rael pelting through the vegetation, the VC slithering off after him, and me still stuck in one spot.

I'd only just got myself unstuck when I heard a terrible yell. I ran off in the direction of the sound (keeping a careful eye on the other trees to make sure there weren't anymore VC's hanging around) and found Rael in a miniature lake or pond, covered from head-to-toe with the brightly coloured algae that seems to spring up everywhere in the jungle and the VC prowling the edges of the pond. One of his arms was bleeding. I later found out that the VC had bitten him.

Now the question is: how the hell do you fight off something that is large, thick, and supremely dangerous when you have no weapons at all?

Answer: find a nest of Pink Furies.

I'd always wondered what Pink Furies ate, besides me and Rael and the Fatlings. (I don't think they've tried to eat Aree yet). Anyways, I spotted one of their nests in a tree nearby. Lucky thing, too. So while Rael treaded water and hoped desperately that the VC wouldn't attempt swimming (I'm not sure if it can, or if it's just afraid of the brightly coloured algae. Hell, I don't blame it. The algae freaks _me_ out, it's so weird).

So, I did the first thing that popped into my head after seeing the Pink Fury nest. I climbed a tree and threw the eggs out – directly at the VC. The creature got knocked on the head by flying projectiles and came in my direction. Knowing that it could climb trees, I wasn't quite sure what to do next. I was kind of stuck. The VC started to climb the tree and I knew I was _really_ stuck.

Let's say that mine and Rael's butts were saved by the appearance of not one, but _three_ Pink Furies. I jumped out of the tree as they came wheeling through the jungle, straight at me. Noticing the VC climbing towards their nest, they charged at it, shrieking all the while. Ignoring the burst of pink and green colours in the tree, I rushed to the side of the pond, waded in and pulled Rael out.

We ran for it.

I never thought the day would come that I would be rescued by Pink Furies – indirectly at least. But now that I've met the VC, I can't believe I spent so much time sleeping in trees when I first got here. It is one of the creepiest things I have ever encountered.

So, at the end of the day, Rael and I had no wood, no food, an annoyed Aree on the beach who was tired of being pecked and prodded by inquisitive Fatlings and we knew a new piece of information about the jungle on our doorstep.

I think the days are getting stranger the longer I'm on this little Galaxy-forsaken planet.


	31. Day 46

**Entry #144**

_**Time: 2109**_

So, we're just about not getting anywhere. Rael's in a pretty bad shape and he's refusing to let me help him just the teensiest little bit.

"Do you really want that scratch of yours to get infected?" I asked him not too long ago. "Do you really want to die in a painfully undramatic… erm… painful way with lots of pus and ooze and vomit?"

His response was to roll his eyes at me and say, "You don't have to be so disgusting."

IMPERIALS!

They always act like _we're_ the dirty ones and they're all so respectably clean and prim and proper. Well, there's no point on flying away from the facts of life: when you're stranded on the edge of a tropical forest on some uninhabited rock of a planet, you're _not_ going to be clean, prim and proper whether you're an Imperial or not. Of course, Imps have it in their heads that they'll always be clean, prim and proper even when they're up to their eyeballs in grease, sweat and multi-coloured algae.

Today I did nothing but argue with dear old Imp Boy. Of course, _he_ blames _me_ for the way things turned out. It's not my fault we didn't get any wood for that raft of his! Anyways, he's the one who wants to go upriver. I'm perfectly content to stay on this beach… maybe not for the rest of my miserable life, but for now, it's all right. I have an annoying droid and cute little lizard-birds for company.

"If that's your mentality, why did you insist on coming in the first place?" he said.

I still can't figure that one out, and as a result, I haven't given him an answer.

"I see you're not falling over unconscious every hour any more," I snapped at him instead. "Did the narcolepsy get leeched out along with half your life blood?"

He looked absolutely furious. "I do _not_ have narco—"

But at that point he realized that his bandage was bleeding again. The problem is the wound keeps cracking open. It'll heal and then it'll crack open. Repeat the process. He's getting weaker and if he doesn't let me help him, he's going to get really bad.

Stupid idiot. I may not have a lot of equipment here, but I can make do with what we've got. He just won't let me help! Arrrgh!

**Entry #145**

_**Time: 2110**_

PERHAPS IT ISN'T THE BEST IDEA TO TEAR YOUR HAIR OUT, KERIGAN. YOU WILL LOOK VERY STRANGE IF YOU KEEP DOING THAT.

**Entry #146**

_**Time: 2111**_

Shut up, Aree.

**Entry #146**

_**Time: 2112**_

I SUGGEST THAT YOU TRY SPEAKING TO THE IMPERIAL ONCE AG

**Entry #147**

_**Time: 2113**_

I shut Aree down. Little droid's annoying me to pieces. Probably because he's mad at me for leaving me alone with the Fatlings. They find him a little _too _interesting.

Thinking back though… except for the scratch and practically staying up all hours of the night, Rael _is_ getting better. Except for the scratch thing. That's really not getting better. What I meant is that at least he's not falling over in a dead sleep halfway through sentences anymore. I'm starting to think that it was probably something he picked up before he tried to shoot me down.

Gods, that was ages ago. Feels like ages ago.

Anyways, knowing him… it was probably something he ate. I'm going to make a note of asking him about it sometime when he's not too grumpy to listen to me. Though knowing him he's going to shout, "I HAVEN'T GOT NARCOLEPSY!" as soon as I raise the question.

**Entry #148**

_**Time: 2115**_

Rael's glaring at me.

**Entry #149**

_**Time: 2116**_

And now he's not.

**Entry #150**

_**Time: 2117**_

And now he's back to glaring at me. I wonder what's up with that?

**Entry #151**

_**Time: 2118**_

Never mind. Forget I asked.


	32. Day 47

**Entry #152**

_**Time: 1409**_

Rael keeps getting annoyed with me. I don't know what I ever did to him (well… actually, don't answer that), but whenever I start to say something, he snaps at me. Maybe his mood is dependent on how badly wounded he is. Except he's not really all that bad off. Yesterday was a mild scare – things are healing up now. I'm sure I helped with that – if he had totally refused my help, he would have an infected open wound right now.

Of course, he doesn't believe me on that.

Whoopee. And here was me thinking that Rebel-Imperial relations were getting better.

**Entry #153**

_**Time: 1427**_

_**Time Edited: 1431**_

Well, apparently I'm "useless" now, since according to dearest Imp Boy, all I do is sit around writing on THAT THING. Meaning, this _StarSave_ datapad.

Oi! Men! What is it with them? So, I feel the need to vent sometimes, what's wrong with that? Instead of kicking a tree or sticking my head in the sand, I do something a little more productive.

Got a problem with that?

**Edit:** Apparently he does, since I just asked him. Stupid Imperial. He doesn't get it at all. Of course, I wasn't expecting him to.

Gargh.

I think that's my new favourite word – gargh.

**Entry #154**

_**Time: 1438**_

I'm getting the hell away from this beach while I still can. IB is driving me up the metaphysical walls. I'm going hunting. Let's hope I don't meet any Pink Furies on my way.

**Entry #155**

_**Time: 1709**_

No Pink Furies or VCs for me. A Fatling tagged along with me. Fatty didn't approve, but she stayed put. Anyways, I found some non-Pink Fury eggs up a tree (these ones are smaller and turquoise. I didn't see any Big Mama birds around, so I think I'm safe, but I'll keep my eyes peeled just in case; you can't ever be too careful, as I've found out on many occasions).

Speaking of the Fatlings, they're growing pretty quick. I'm going to start thinking of names for them. I said that I'd do that a while back, but I haven't really started yet. Maybe once I decided on names, I'll have to run them by Fatty first, though, she's been giving me the Death Glare of Evil Motherhood lately. Like right now. I'm not sure what's worse: Death Glare from an Imperial, or Death Glare from a small reptilian bird with fangs.

I'm starting to think that Fatty might be the more dangerous one. I'm banking on my old friendship with her that she doesn't do anything stupid and limits herself to glaring. Glaring I can deal with. Sinking-Fangs-Into-Keri-For-The-Heck-Of-It, not so much.


	33. Days 48 & 49

**Entry #156**

_**Time: 1609**_

Thanks to my hunting trip yesterday, we've been eating better. Rael's slightly less grumpy with me today.

Today, he also told me that he's grumpy because of the non-raft thing going on right now. Well, he didn't exactly tell me that, but what he did say certainly implied it.

Men and their toys. What's the big deal about the raft, anyway?

I'm still thinking up names for the Fatlings. There's a mischievous boy Fatling who reminds me of Wes. At least, he's annoying Aree enough to be like the Fatling version of Wes.

Speaking of names, perhaps I should stop calling Fatty "Fatty." She's not fat anymore now that she's not pregnant. But I'm so used to it that maybe I can't think of anything better. Besides, she responds to Fatty when I do call her that.

Rael thinks I'm psychotic, by the way. What a _nice _fellow.

*Keri Glare of Death!*

* * *

**Entry #157**

_**Time: 0730**_

Well, I'm up bright and early. Probably because I've decided I can't sleep anymore.

Last night, Rael and I had a talk of a sort. Pretty much, that talk consisted of him throwing the keycard that I found at me and saying that if we're ever going to get off this rock, we better find out where it came from. He knows that I'm perfectly content to stay here, but what he doesn't know is that part of me agrees with him but a larger, scarier part of me just wants to argue with him for the sake of arguing.

Hm. I can't believe I just wrote that. Looks like I did. I had no idea I was thinking that until I wrote it.

Maybe writing is therapeutic after all!

… maybe not. Gargh.

So, we've come down with a plan. _He's_ going to go get wood and then we're going to build the raft together. I can continue doing my hunting since he says I'm better at that than he is. I asked him why I get stuck doing all the food and he said that I'm better at it. I asked him if he was trying to compliment me, and then he gave me a weird look.

Why is it that the women always get stuck doing the food stuff?!

GARGH!

Not that I mind, of course. I've had enough traipsing around a forest full of wood looking for wood.

Do you ever find that your mind is a lot clearer in the morning? I don't think so. Mine's groggier than anything. Can't seem to think in a straight line. 

Oh, and for your information, Fatty likes the name Wes. So that's one down. Well, two, actually. I've named the loudest girl Fatling Leia because she seems to like to "talk" (the Fatling form of talking, anyway) and I like the name, it's pretty. I hope Princess Leia doesn't mind. Of course, she probably will never know, so there you go. Wes would probably be jumping up and down with glee at the thought of having a very odd creature named after him.

You're welcome, Wes!

Yes, I just rolled my eyes.

**Entry #158**

_**Time: 1034**_

Rael just headed off into the jungle looking for wood. Here's me hoping he doesn't end up in any more multi-coloured algae muck.

**Entry #159**

_**Time: 1109**_

I played with the Fatlings. They are adorable! Leia and Wes got into a fight and Fatty put them in detention. Or at least that what it looked like. Aree is finding it hilarious and he's glad that they're not crawling over him anymore.

**Entry #160**

_**Time: 1111**_

Ooops. I spoke too soon.

**Entry #161**

_**Time: 1148**_

Going hunting. Be back in a bit.

**Entry #162**

_**Time: 1509**_

Today was productive. I found a lot of eggs and I caught a rodent of some kind by making a trap out of vines. I'm still not sure how that worked – I swear it wasn't going to work and then it did! I know just have to find a way to skin it.

Ewwwww…

Aree? Help?


	34. Days 50, 51 & 52

**Entry #163**

_**Time: 0832**_

Rael brought back a lot of wood and vines yesterday. He's a mess right now (I told him to go jump in the sea, but does he listen? Noooooo). Well, messy. As in dirty. And smelly, but I know I'm not a right side better than he is. Anyways, we're going to start on the raft this morning.

By the way, Aree helped me skin the rodent. It was a disgusting affair. Aree's not too pleased either and made me clean him, which is extraordinarily difficult when you only have rags ripped from pieces of your clothes to do so.

**Entry #164**

_**Time: 1038**_

The raft is not going well. Rael and I are arguing about how it's best to set it up.

**Entry #165**

_**Time: 1209**_

Well, that guy's an idiot and make no mistake. I _told_ him it was going to fall apart if he did that, but does he listen? No.

**Entry #166**

_**Time: 1309**_

Okay, I'm not helping anymore. I'm staying here on my beach. And I'm not cooking and hunting for him anymore.

**Entry #167**

_**Time: 1509**_

Well, that came along _brilliantly. _Really. Okay, so it was partially my fault, but he made me do it! Well… no really. I am still in complete control of my actions, so I suppose it _is_ my fault but

OH, SHUT UP AND STOP TELLING ME TO COME OVER AND HELP, YOU STUPID IMPERIAL!

**Entry #168**

_**Time: 1909**_

I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life.

I hate _today._ Underline that, please, and put it in big red letters. Today _sucked._

* * *

**Entry #169**

_**Time: 1411**_

We found a different way of doing things. The raft is coming along better now. I've had no time to hunt and we're running low on food.

**Entry #170**

_**Time: 1812**_

Bless the Fatlings! Fatty and her brood brought back a whole bunch of rodents for us! Some of the younger ones also brought back some sort of plant. They're eating it, so I suppose it is edible. I'm not sure, but when I get hungry enough I'll try it and pray that it's not poisonous to humans.

* * *

**Entry #171**

_**Time: 1211**_

The raft is half-complete now. Imp Boy and I aren't arguing as much anymore about it. Things are coming along much more smoothly. The Fatlings are keeping us fed. They're such good little housekeepers! Awww, lovely.

By the way, the plant is edible. Great to know! Rael was very suspicious about it; he's refusing to eat any kind of plants. It kind of makes me wonder if he did so before and that resulted in making him sick or something. Hmm. Hey, it's a thought.

Back to work now.

**Entry #172**

_**Time: 1247**_

Apparently it's not back to work. Rael just reminded me that – by his calculations – it's some strangely important holiday today that his family always celebrates. So no work today. I don't believe him! If it was that important, why is he only remembering it now, and also – who the hell keeps tracks of the days around here? Like it MATTERS when you're STUCK on some remote PLANET with no chances of getting OFF.

Oh wait. I keep track of the days. Or at least I try to.

Huh. I've now managed to confuse myself. HuuuuRRAH!


End file.
